Life At Fontainebleau
by xMissWhitneyBexx
Summary: What if modern 21st century had a French Royal Family? Modern AU. Frary and other ships as well.
1. A Love That Lasts Forever

**Here's a Christmas/New Year's gift to you guys! I've been reading a lot on the Royal Family, being a Brit and all, so I started thinking about what if France had one? It's sort of a modern, drama-filled spin to ATEOTB so I hope you enjoy it. **

****It's first set when Francis and Mary are around twenty years of age or so and it's the preparation of their marriage as future King and Queen of France.****

****Moderately based on Reign itself, but modern.****

* * *

"Kenna, where the hell are you?" Mary demanded, into the phone. "Our flight leaves in an hour and all of us are at the airport already-"

She pinched the bridge of her nose when the voicemail cut off and she hung up, not bothering to listen to the automated voice. She fixed a smile on her face and walked up to her mother and other friends.

"Shall we get into the jet?" She asked.

"Where is she, Mary?" Her mother asked calmly. "Or do I have to disturb the Duke and the Duchess on their romantic getaway to Peru?"

Mary cleared her throat. "She's coming. In fact-"

"I'm so sorry! I'm here," they heard as Mary turned to glare at Kenna who was running up to them with her guitar and suitcase. "I was stuck in traffic and-"

"You reek of alcohol," Marie said disapprovingly. "Mckenna, this is Mary's and Francis's _month_. My daughter will be the future Queen of France by some fortunate force and you are late and stinking of alcohol."

Kenna bowed her head. "I am sorry Aunt Marie. I was-"

"I do not care what you were doing," Marie snapped. "Get in the jet."

"Yes, Ma'am," Kenna whispered, not meeting her friends' eyes as she handed her luggage and guitar over to the pilot and got in first.

Once they were in the air and Marie was on some business call, the girls all turned to Kenna expectantly. She gave them a confused glance, but she knew what they wanted.

"I was playing my guitar with a few music lovers at the park," she told them. "One saw me and complimented my fashion style. I couldn't say 'no' to a cool jam session, could I?"

Lola chuckled. "Are you serious? You are already perfect and now you perform impromptu concerts for drunk people at parks."

"Did you drink?" Greer asked her.

Kenna nodded proudly. "Only one beer. It was cheap, but I don't complain when it comes to alcohol," she replied coyly. "I'm sorry, Mary. I will be careful next time."

Mary sighed, nudging her friend's shoulder gently. "It's fine."

Before any of them could say something else, Marie stood in front of their table and eyed them all. "We are landing in Paris. The engagement party will be held there, at the Château de Versailles. From there, we will go to the Château de Fontainebleau for the formal announcement at the royal abode and Queen Catherine and I will oversee the wedding details and honeymoon tour."

"Wonderful, Mother," Mary said happily. "Will we meet Francis at the airport?"

"No, he will be at the château and you both cannot see each other until the party," Marie replied. "I've updated all of your secretaries about your itinerary for the upcoming week after the engagement week. Although your dress will be a surprise to you and everyone, Mary, we will need official photos of you and your bridesmaids attending a bridal appointment at the dress boutique. And some of you trying some dresses on."

Mary nodded. "Well," she began, lifting a flute full of champagne. "Here's to my future marriage."

She was excited. This marriage had been planned since she was five and she and the blonde Dauphin met. He gave her a rose then, saying her eyes were as pretty as the flower and she had kissed his cheek, his chubby cheek.

Over the years, they had not seen each other much, sending love letters and being forbidden to use phones or Skype or any other electronic device to contact each other. But their parents had allowed the use of pen and paper, personally transported to each person.

Mary had noble blood. She was the lady daughter of some late Scottish duke who had been close friends with the King of France who was only the dauphin himself back when the men had met. Along with her father, King Henry VI had also found friends in her best friends' fathers. All had attended some prestigious university meant for high nobility in a coveted country.

Then one drunken night led to a marriage proposal between Henry's future son and her father's future daughter. Not that any of them knew whether or not they'd bear those specific children.

Her father had married a woman, had a son and Henry had also married a woman and had a... son. The second time was a charm. By then, James had remarried and Mary's mother had her, and Henry had divorced and his new wife had Francis, his first son now being illegitimate.

Henry had caused quite a stir in France, his new bride better than the first, his first family unit hidden away like a dirty secret following the surprising divorce and new marriage.

It gave Mary a migraine thinking about it. It is not like Henry would ever confess as to why he left his first wife so abruptly and abandoned their son by carting them to Paris to live with Diane's family. It wasn't like anyone cared anyway, Catherine de Medici had given him many children.

"Am I mad?" She asked her friends after her mother returned to her seat and closed her eyes, seemingly to nap. "Getting married at twenty?"

"Not at all!" Greer said dubiously.

Kenna scoffed. "Don't mind her. You and Francis are a love story come true. Love letters and secret coded messages... Flowers and sweet compliments... Love... Love is beautiful."

"How much did you drink exactly?" Lola asked lightly.

"Not that much, unfortunately," Kenna muttered, checking her phone with a wide smile. "Well, that's my evening sorted. I've made a match on my hook-up app!"

Mary rolled her eyes. "Anyway, Francis's family have a lot of drama and their history is incredible. Like from a revolution, assassinations to claiming France again as a monarch-ruled country? Even the Prime Minister was shaken!"

"It shows how powerful the Valois-Angoulême family is," Kenna replied. "They own _everything_. From East to West, North to South... Fontainebleu, Paris, Maine, Brittany, Calais..."

"I get it," Mary said shakily. "And one day, I will be the queen of all of that but right now, I will be the dauphine. That unnerves me. We're supposed to be the modern royals and-"

"Mary, you will be fine," Greer cut her off gently. "You've been preparing for this for all of your life. You and Francis are meant to be and this will one day be so easy, you'll breeze through life. And you will have all of us there to support you."

Mary smiled happily. "I don't know what I would do without any of you. Thank you."

"You're we-"

"Ladies, less talking and more reading of the itineraries I gave you," Marie said, her eyes still closed. "They should be in your emails. I am sure your secretaries are efficient in organising your lives."

Mary rolled her eyes, making her friends grin as they got onto their devices and did as told. They didn't need to stress themselves out more, this was supposed to be happy and Marie de Guise was not going to ruin things.

...

Francis smirked, watching him fall off the horse and curse and smack the ground in annoyance. He began to stalk towards him but he was stopped by his security guard's hand on his shoulder. He looked back and rolled his eyes.

"He won't hurt me," Francis snapped.

"Let him cool off first," Michel said. "Your half-brother's temper... Not one to be messed with."

Francis clicked his tongue, his eyes going over to see said half-brother glare at his horse. "You're right," he said. "I think Oakley does it on purpose. He does use Luna a lot and Oakley gets easily jealous."

"Oakley needs to behave. The Baron is competing tomorrow."

"Do you think-"

"You can't go," Michel cut him off. "Your bride and you have an interview."

Francis cursed. "My mother's doing? Knowing full well that I'd want to support my own brother, she would organise something to clash with one of the most important days of his life."

"The Queen is... she wants the wedding to go well," Michel said carefully. "Your Highness-"

"Bash!"

Bash turned away from his horse and his eyes lit up when he saw Francis. Walking over, he took his gloves off and wiped some dirt off his cheek just as he reached the Dauphin and his guard.

"What brings you here? I thought you would be trapped at Versailles until you were allowed to see your fiancée?"

"I can't come tomorrow," Francis told him sadly, stuffing his hands into his coat pocket. "So I am here right now instead. Watching you practice."

Bash sighed. "You didn't have to come. I'm sure Father would go livid if he found out you were here," he replied, starting to walk back to the horse.

"No one can stop me from seeing you, Bash," Francis said, following after. "I want you there."

"Where?"

"At my engagement party tonight. It will be boring without you," Francis told him, pouting a little. "You can't deny me, can you?"

Bash shook his head in disbelief. "I'm not allowed. I am supposed to be Henry's dirty, little secret remember? Locked away in Paris and only allowed to compete in competitions under secret personas..."

"I will talk to him. I want you to be there," Francis said easily. "Also, Mary has friends. Beautiful friends. You can choose-"

"Francis, I do not need your help in finding someone."

"A wife. In finding a wife."

Bash sighed heavily. "That too. Unless you want some horse shit on your face, I will warn you to leave now. Most preferably before I get a call from Father dearest about your disappearance."

Francis chuckled. "It is good to see you though. I miss you."

"You saw me three months ago."

"Exactly. We should hang out more."

Bash shrugged. "We will see. But thanks for stopping by. None of the others ever do."

"They're little shits," Francis said lightly. "One day, they'll be vying for your attention."

"And how will that come to be?"

Francis smirked. "I will be king one day and _you_ will be the second most powerful man in France. Before the Prime Minister, of course."

"Francis-"

"It's wrong. If not for our father's ever-changing mind, you would have been king instead of me. I probably wouldn't even exist-"

"Francis, stop," Bash said. "I actually prefer living in the shadows. My privacy is respected, I am not plastered on every magazine or newspaper headline for sleeping around or being a spoilt brat."

Francis blushed. "They're all slander! We both know that most of what they say isn't true."

"You've been engaged since you were five. It's understandable that you'd partake in various relationships before you're tied down for life."

"Mary's the one," Francis said firmly. "When that ring is on her finger, I am loyal to _her_."

Bash smiled. "Look at you, all grown up at twenty," he said, his phone beeping. He took it out of his pocket and checked the screen. "And that is my evening sorted out."

"Bash!"

"Francis, I am not coming," Bash said.

"You'd rather have sex with some random woman than come to my engagement party?" Francis asked, slightly annoyed but he couldn't blame him.

"My mother isn't invited nor will my presence even be acknowledged," Bash said. "So, yes. Yes to what you said."

Francis sighed heavily. "I guess it's going to be awkward asking you this."

"What?"

"I need a Best Man. I was hoping it would be you."

"Francis..." Bash said softly. "I would be honoured but I don't think that will be approved."

Francis rolled his eyes. "I am the Dauphin, the _groom_. Surely I can decide who is involved in my own wedding or not. If you can make it to the engagement party, do. It starts at eight promptly."

"My competition is tomorrow. I have to go to bed early, wake up early and train before it starts. Anyway, why can't you come?"

Francis frowned. "My interview with Mary is tomorrow," he explained. "But I guess we're even. You can't come to my party and I can't come to your event..."

"Look, I hope everything goes well. Say 'hello' to Mary for me," Bash said, giving him a quick hug. "I need to take Oakley back inside and maybe try my luck with Luna."

"Alright," Francis mumbled. "See you later, I guess." He watched his brother walk away. "We better head back, Michel."

"Right this way, Your Highness."

...

"Francis!"

Francis froze in his steps and turned. Michel gave him a pointed look before they turned to Henry. "Dad."

"I have been trying to get in contact with you. Mary and her entourage are here," Henry said. "Walk with me."

Francis joined his father's side as they headed towards the study. "What happens next? I thought we weren't going to see each other until the party?"

"We've organised a press conference for an hour. You, your mother and I will be attending it with Duchess Marie de Guise. Monsieur Narcisse has hopefully sent you your speech."

Francis rolled his eyes. "About how happy I am to be getting married and how I hope for a bright and fruitful future with my new wife-to-be, and so on."

"With more enthusiasm than that, François," Henry said firmly which made Francis scowl at the mention of the French variation of his name.

"You sound like Mother."

"She is in my ear every day about this wedding," Henry said with a sigh. "I am happy, truly. You have found love in this young woman and I hope your marriage will fare far better than mine. Both of them."

Francis nodded. "About that... I was hoping that Sebastian could come."

"He and his mother are in South Africa, aren't they?" Henry said dismissively, walking on.

"Bash isn't and I want him there, Dad," Francis said, catching up to him. "As my Best Man."

"And what about your former school friend? Comte Julien Varga? Or even his identical brother, Vicomte Remy? No one could ever tell the difference."

Francis glared at the back of his father's head but then shook his head. "Julien and Remy are not my brothers."

"Half-brother," Henry corrected him.

Francis sighed. Even Bash was starting to sound like their father whenever he corrected him. "He is still a Valois. Prince William had Prince Harry as his Best Man. Why can't I have my own brother as my own? It is my wedding after all, despite all the women in the castle planning it as opposed to the actual bride and groom, but still. This one thing I want for my wedding. I beg you."

"Don't beg," Henry said, sighing heavily. "And fine. I will call him."

"No, _I_ will call him," Francis insisted. "I want my message to get through clear."

"I raised you well."

Francis smirked. "Yes, yes you did. Now if you will excuse me, I have to memorise a bunch of bullshit for my fucking unplanned press conference."

"A future king does not swear!" Henry snapped.

"Au revoir, Papa!" Francis said, already running down the hall with Michel on his heels. "Pissed him off enough?"

"Oui, Your Highness, oui," Michel replied, laughing.

...

Later that evening, Mary paced the hall, her hands on her hips. "I can't believe her. She's always late and she does it on purpose!"

"I'm sure she has a reason," Greer said. "Traffic."

"That was her excuse last time!" Mary cried out, her eyes widening when she saw her mother head down the hallway with Queen Catherine. "Oh, shit."

"Language, Mary," Lola said lightly.

Marie stopped in front of them, mentally counting. "There are three of you. Where is Mckenna?"

"She is looking for the perfect gift for Mary to Francis," Greer quickly said. "Mary didn't have time so Kenna offered."

Catherine smiled. "Oh, your friends are very helpful."

"They are," Mary said, chuckling nervously. "So, so helpful."

Marie narrowed her eyes. "Get her here. Francis will go in first and you will be announced after he enters."

Catherine placed a hand on Mary's shoulder. "At first, it can be daunting but keep your head held high, Marchioness. There are people that I would like to introduce you to. Perhaps potential advisors for you for when you become queen."

Mary nodded. "Thank you so much, Your Majesty. I cannot wait to be your new daughter-in-law."

Catherine smiled. "That's enough arse-kissing for one day," she said, turning to Marie as her smile left her face. "The Royal Family take promptness very seriously. Put your ladies in order."

Marie nodded and bowed her head. "Yes, Your Majesty. We will see you inside."

Catherine turned and walked away. "You have five minutes, ladies!"

"She's scary," Lola said when Catherine left.

Mary sighed. "She is."

"She is the Queen of France," Marie said. "You need to respect her."

"Oh, I do alright," Mary muttered.

Mary turned around and saw Kenna walking up to them casually. She crossed her arms and shook her head in disappointment, but she wasn't going to let loose now, not with her mother already fuming.

"Did you find the present for Francis?" She asked, knowing she might as well use that excuse for her.

Kenna smiled widely. "It's wrapped in my bedroom, hidden in a secret place for when you both have some private time together."

Mary was surprised but she didn't let it show. Her best friend was a fantastic liar. "Thank you. You were cutting it fine."

"Well, the gift is for the future King of France. It had to be perfect and carefully sought."

Marie was shocked, nodding in reply. "Of course. Well done, Countess. Your dress is a little revealing though."

Kenna shrugged, twirling around for her friends to swoon at her lilac silk dress. "Cleavage was a thing in the Marie Antoinette times!"

"The end of the 'V' is at your belly button!" Marie cried out in horror.

"Fair enough, but it's cute! You want Mary to look good, don't you? Then her friends must look appealing as well," Kenna replied happily.

"And the high thigh slit where we can see more than needed?" Marie demanded.

Kenna shrugged again. "People should not be looking where they shouldn't be. Who knows? I might find my future husband inside there."

"When you stop being a whore, then yes, you will," Marie retorted making Kenna gape.

"Well, Aunt Marie-"

"Can we stop this?!" Mary cut her friend off. "Both of you, stop. Lord... Mother, Kenna can wear what she likes. Kenna, respect my mother. Now, this night is about Francis and me, so can we put grudges aside and focus on that?"

Marie rolled her eyes but nodded. "Yes, my dear. Mckenna, just do not embarrass us. You represent Scotland and most of all, Mary. Your actions do not only reflect on your family but mine. This union is important, you do understand that?"

"I do," Kenna mumbled. "I'm sorry."

"Right. Let us check ourselves before we're released into this shitstorm of snakes," Marie said, clapping her hands. "The Scots are here to stay."

...

Francis grinned, turning away from the door to hug Bash tightly. "You made it."

"My plans fell through. So, I decided to come," Bash said, letting go of him. "I wasn't going to skip this. This is important to you and to our family."

"If you take away the unity of two countries and how important this marriage is for everyone involved, I know that Mary is the one," Francis told him. "And I know we'll be happy."

Bash smiled brightly. "And I am here as your Best Man and romance advisor. I've written many books with my secret pen name on what to expect when you're-"

"Expecting? As in a baby?"

"No! _Dating_," Bash said. "You and Mary are doing this backwards. Marriage and then whatever you should have done before marriage. With my guidance, your marriage will go smoothly. From arguments to whatever mental storage women have of things you've done wrong in the past."

Francis paled. "Women can do that?"

"You have a lot to learn," Bash said, fixing his brother's bowtie. "Right, I've let Father know I am here so let's see how many faces are surprised to see me when I'm announced."

Francis laughed. "I heard the Prime Minister is here."

"For you? How special do you feel?"

"Very," Francis replied.

Bash turned to the door. "It's been a while since I've been to one of these."

"How does it feel?"

Bash smiled. "Awful. I am glad I never was inclined to go. I hope the bar is stocked."

"There's the brother I know and love!" Francis chuckled. "Are you ready?"

"As ready as I'll ever be."

...

"Entering, the Dauphin de France and Duke de Anjou, His Royal Highness François of House Valois."

Francis took a deep breath in and released it before entering the hall to everyone's eyes on him. His parents were sat on their thrones, Catherine's proud gaze on him as his younger siblings more or less scowled at the whole affair. He didn't blame them, he didn't want to be here either but he was going to see Mary. The only thing that mattered to him.

"And the Baron de Avon, His Lordship Sébastien of Houses Valois and de Poitiers."

"Are you serious?" Bash muttered darkly.

"We get it, Mr Incognito," Francis teased him as his brother joined his side.

They waved a little, shone a few smiles in every direction before making their way down the stairs, Francis first and foremost as his parents got up to greet him.

He kissed his mother's cheeks and then his father's before standing back and letting Bash do the same, but with more haste. It was very uncomfortable but Henry seemed to be revelling in it.

"Valois, Father? Seriously?" Bash asked him. "I have a tournament tomorrow, that could have had consequences on how I'm judged."

"You're my son," Henry said blatantly. "You may bear your mother's name formally but your birth certificate says otherwise. I am actually glad that you are here. We can find a suitable match for you. You're twenty-four next year. You most certainly are not getting any younger. I was-"

"Your Majesties, Your Highness and Your Lordship," Narcisse cut in, bowing low. "The Marchioness and her mother are waiting."

Henry nodded. "Yes, yes. It was these two who made that delay," he said, checking his watch. "Thirteen past eight. Not favourable, wait two minutes."

"I will let them know," Narcisse said before leaving.

"A royal never arrives on awkward times," Catherine said. "Or royal-to-be."

Francis smiled. "Have you seen her?"

"Yes," Catherine said. "She looks wonderful. You're matching. Blue and gold is always the right choice to go for at engagement parties and weddings."

"Great," Francis replied dismissively, waving at a few nobility before turning back to his parents and brother. "One more minute to go." He hated small talk with his parents, they more or less droned on about royal duties and expectations.

Henry smiled. "You should probably meet her at the bottom of the stairs. We will applaud the joining of your hands before you have five minutes to converse between yourselves. After, you belong to the people."

"Smile, back straight. Never frown, there are eyes and cameras watching," Catherine added.

"Very well," Francis muttered with a fake smile, watching his parents return to their seats, acting if they were still in love as the day they married. He resisted the urge to roll his eyes, turning to go to the bottom of the stairs.

"Entering, the Marchioness of Moray, Her Ladyship Mary of House Stuart and her mother, Her Grace Duchess Marie of House Guise. Accompanying them are the Countess of Barton, Lady Mckenna of House Beaton and Her Ladyship's ladies, Lady Greer Seton-Norwood and Lady Lola Flemming."

Mary entered first, her eyes immediately landing on Francis before she quickly turned to scan the room and wave. _Shoulders back and smiles on_, she thought. Her mother stood beside her, also waving before the two of them were joined by Kenna, Lola and Greer behind them.

Together, they went down the stairs, Mary's hand taking Francis's on the second to last step. He 'helped' her down the remaining steps and walked her over to the centre of the room where everyone clapped as foretold.

After they were applauded, everyone returned to their own business and Mary finally turned to Francis, leaning their foreheads together. They couldn't kiss, the reporters would have a field day but they could share this short moment of relief and joy and love.

"I missed you," he whispered.

"I missed you too," she whispered back happily.

Francis beamed. "Meet my brother. Well, you've already met him but it has been years."

Mary chuckled, letting herself be led to where Bash was standing, a drink in his hand. "Bash, it's nice to see you again."

"Likewise, Mary," Bash said, raising his flute. "Congratulations."

"Thank you," Mary said happily. "Dear God, I feel like a peahen."

"Well us peacocks are intimidating," Bash replied teasingly. "Have a drink. I totally ignored you coming down those stairs to get one as the bar was free."

"How kind of you. Anyway, I can't. Not yet," Mary said sadly.

Francis nodded. "Strict rules. Only for Father's speech and toasts," he replied.

Bash frowned. "Now, that's just unfortunate." His eyes landed on Kenna. _Now, why is she here?_

"What is it?" Francis asked, trying to turn to where his brother was looking at.

Mary also turned. "An ex-girlfriend?"

"No," Bash mumbled, gesturing over to Kenna. "Who is she? The brunette in purple?"

Mary gasped in realisation. "Oh! You're talking about Kenna!"

"Yes, _Kenna._ Is that her name?" Bash asked, strained. His eyes widened when her eyes landed on them and she wore the same shock on her own face as she made her way over. _Dear God, did she follow me here?_

"It is," Mary confirmed, beckoning her friend over.

"What is it?" Francis asked him, studying his brother's face in amusement. "Do you like her?"

"Kenna!" Mary said, linking their arms when she arrived. "Kenna, meet the Baron of Avon and Francis's older half-brother, Sebastian. Bash, meet the Countess of Barton and my best friend and cousin thrice removed, Kenna. Or Mckenna if you want to be formal. We do have ears about, after all..." She smiled for the cameras, using Kenna's arm as a pressure point to cool down her nerves.

"We meet again," Bash said, quickly downing his glass and taking another. _But clothed now._

Kenna giggled nervously. "We do."

"You know each other?" Francis asked curiously.

"Oh, we know each other _very_ well," Kenna said, taking a flute from a passing tray. "Very, very well indeed."

Bash nodded stiffly. "So well, you could say we met four times?"

"Oh, don't miscount, Baron Sebastian. We met more than five times," Kenna said flirtily.

Bash smirked. "We did."

"It's lovely to meet you again. For the sixth time," she said, holding her hand out for her to kiss softly.

"And you. It's my honour, _again_," Bash replied. "I find your dress... interesting."

Kenna licked her bottom lip. "You do?" She asked softly, looking up at him through her lashes before taking a sip of her drink.

"What is going on here?" Mary asked, sharing a bemused glance with Francis.

"I am just getting to know your friend, Marchioness..." Bash trailed off. "So, you're a countess?"

Kenna nodded, feeling Mary release her death grip on her. "Yes, I am. I am the eldest child in my father's second and current marriage. He decided that a title should be more attractive to suitors."

"Yes," Mary replied warily. "So, this means that my ladies are paraded like birds on heat, looking for husbands at my engagement party."

"I don't mind," Kenna said, sharing a smile with Bash. "You can never know who may be interested in these gatherings."

Bash sipped his drink. "Or out of them."

"Yes," Kenna said. "I made sure to design the best dresses for this reason. I never want to be caught off guard."

"Well, I am sure someone will ask for your hand in marriage soon," Francis told her kindly. "You've already got my brother drooling all over you."

Bash turned to him. "I am not drooling on-"

"That's enough talking," Henry said from behind them. "Francis, Marchioness, it is time to do your rounds."

Francis nodded, taking Mary's hand. "Yes, Father," he said before the couple walked off to join Catherine, Marie and some noblemen.

Henry eyed Kenna's outfit, a small smirk settling on his lips. "You must be the Comtessa de Barton. Yes, Duchess Marie told me to be wary of you."

Kenna curtseyed. "Your Majesty," she greeted him, eyes locked on his.

"You're a confident one, aren't you?"

"I am, Your Majesty," Kenna said. "You know my father?"

"How is the Duke?" Henry asked politely.

Kenna smiled. "Very well. He might visit in the future."

"Perhaps sooner rather than later," Henry said coyly, turning to Bash. "Get the Comtessa a drink."

"I get my own drinks, thank you very much, Your Majesty," Kenna said politely. "And I like the Baron of Avon's company. We've been getting to know each other very well. His compliments are keeping me from leaving his side."

Henry stared her down and she stared back, not wavering at all under his gaze. _She's confident and holds her own. Perhaps..._ "There's something about you. You spell 'trouble'."

"I spell 'spirited'," Kenna told him. "Your Majesty."

Bash looked between them, taking a sip from his glass. He'd already sussed his father out. "Are you done eye-fucking or do I have to leave for you to rip each other's clothes off?"

"Sébastien!" Henry snapped. "I am in a loving marriage."

"We all know that isn't true," Bash said darkly. "Would excuse the Comtessa and me?"

Henry faltered but he left without a word. Banished away by his own illegitimate son. Perhaps he should have not been lenient with the boy and his mother all of those years ago.

Bash turned to Kenna. "What was that?"

Kenna scoffed. "I flirt with everyone! Kings and their sons alike," she said, shrugging. "And your father spells 'no way in hell'. I don't feel safe with him. Too uptight. You don't need to worry."

"I don't? Why don't I have to worry?" Bash asked.

Kenna stepped closer to him. "You like what you see."

"I do like what I see," he said, grinning at her. "And I did so earlier before you ran away to attend this monstrosity of a party."

Kenna stepped even closer to him, looking up through her lashes. "Did you really?" She asked softly.

"There are cameras around. You should stop right there."

"They don't care about you," Kenna said softly. The cameras could be damned.

"But they care about _you_."

Kenna froze. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"You're a countess from Scotland," he said softly. "If you're seen with anyone below your status..."

"You're a prince," Kenna said matter-of-factly.

"No, I'm not. Not anymore. Not even for a day," Bash whispered. "You know how it is. A king divorces his beloved wife on a whim and takes away his son's name before he even has one."

Kenna sighed. "I'm sorry that happened to you and your mother."

Bash blinked in surprise. He wasn't expecting that. "You need to make your rounds. Actively look like you're considering options for a suitable match."

"How about a not-so prince?" Kenna asked him coyly. "You're handsome, you know how I tick already."

"We've known each other for less than five hours," he told her. "That isn't even enough for me to ask you on a date if I could. I see one of my many siblings. I have to go."

Kenna faltered, watching him leave to greet his little brother. She couldn't believe how quickly that turned. From flirting in front of his brother and Mary to the realisation that they were socially miles apart. Swallowing down her tears, she grabbed another drink and went to find Lola and Greer.

...

_Twenty-Three Years Ago_

"Henry, I do not understand!" Diane cried out, following her husband quickly as he stormed the halls. "We have just had our first child, a _son_. Why are you doing this?"

"You were twice divorced," Henry stated, stopping and turning to face her. "This will be the third."

Diane paled. "But why? What have I done? My eldest son is with his father, my daughters are with their father... You and I, we are in _love_."

"A better offer, Diane. All you have to offer me are lands in Avon," Henry told her. "This woman is an Italian princess. Her family own Italy - maternal side who rule every bank from every direction and paternal who own Italy overall. Diane, she and I have been..."

Diane set her jaw. "Have been what? In relations?"

"I respect you, Diane," Henry began. "As the mother of my firstborn, I will allow you to keep a title after we divorce. _Archduchess_, does that seem fitting?"

"Is this a joke?" Diane cried out. "Henry, I have done everything for you. I let you treat me like nothing, even though I am old enough to be-"

"My mother? Indeed," Henry cut her off. "Catherine de Medici, however, is my age and very fertile so we should have no issues in producing an heir. Diane, the people hate you, why do you bother?"

Diane scowled. "A little hate doesn't affect me. I am the Queen of France, I do not need to care about subjects hating me! I am above them."

"And that sort of language will have our heads cut from our bodies," Henry snapped. "This marriage alliance will be good for France. We will have strong allies in Italy. Diane, it is done and I will see you tomorrow morning to sign the papers. If you do not come, I will have to use alternative forces."

Diane stormed off, slamming the door to the nursery behind her. She walked towards the crib, seeing her sweet child reacting to the sudden noise. She hushed him, gently stroking his cheek as he yawned and settled back asleep.

They had not even formally named him nor shown him to the world. Now, he'll have no title, no name, no lands, no _father_. Well, she wasn't sure if Henry would abandon him or not but something sank in Diane's heart as she realised that it could well be the former option. At least she had family in Paris. Her brother, her mother... She had wealth, being a Countess before she married Henry through her birth nobility.

A couple of dukes and a king on her record. Four children, three fathers.

One thing she knew was that she could never show her face again. The embarrassment was too much.

The next day, she signed the papers, her former husband named their child and she walked away.

...

_Present Day_

"It's over. It's finally over..." Mary breathed out, admiring her new ring. It was an heirloom from Francis's family and it sparkled beautifully, the ruby gem as red as her nails.

Francis smiled, kissing her neck as he wrapped his arms around her waist from behind. "Do you like it?"

"I have to," she said. "But I do. It's really beautiful. Your mother wore this as well?"

He nodded. "Yes. Then she had a replica made after she and my father got married. It has to be done this time as well. It is an old relic, it's bound to get ruined or damaged."

"So I can keep it until our wedding day?"

"Yes."

Mary beamed. "Oh, Francis... Fifteen years we've waited for this. Since we were five... On the 17th of September, we will be husband and wife."

"Then one day, king and queen," he said, twirling her around in his arms. "You're so beautiful."

"You're just saying that," she said, laughing.

"No," he whispered. "The moonlight is hitting just the right spots. You're like a dream, a wish come true."

She playfully rolled her eyes. "And you're the cheesiest man in France."

"I will take that," he replied. "I can't wait to start my life with you."

Mary beamed up at him, bringing his head down to meet his lips in a soft kiss. "We... We haven't been intimate in a long while," she whispered.

"God, if my parents knew we were intimate at all, we'd be separated until our wedding day."

"At least they're being kind in keeping us together until the last two days of being unmarried," Mary replied. "I can't wait for our wedding day, Francis."

Francis grinned. "Well, that's a sure way of making sure we are fertile."

"It won't even matter when we conceive our child," Mary told him, kissing his neck. "It's only a week and a half."

The blonde sighed but smiled. "What are we waiting for?" He asked before lifting her into his arms and placing her down on his bed. "Practice makes perfect."

...

Kenna tutted when she found out she was lost. The chateau was _huge_, endless of hallways and none of the security guards was being helpful. The chateau even had men from the French military storming about and none of them paid her any mind.

She was annoyed. She had managed to find her bedroom earlier after sneaking off for her love tryst with the Dauphin's older brother. Kenna had been surprised to find out that he was a prince. Well, the brother of a prince. He was still one of the sons of a king.

And Henry himself...

She knew what he thought of her, an enigma. Even Bash knew that his father seemed to become bewitched by her. It was an effect she had on everyone, she couldn't help how she was.

Sighing, she leant her head against a wall and closed her eyes. She had drunk a lot, trying not to think about Bash nor his stares or quick glances away whenever she looked at him discreetly.

Perhaps that is why she couldn't find her damned room. Her mind was fuzzy and she yawned, almost deciding to fall asleep right there and then. She didn't mind sleeping on the ground, she used to camp out in the woods as a girl. The outdoors was her freedom and her oyster.

"Comtessa," she heard a familiar male voice say. "Are you alright?"

"I am," she replied, keeping her posture and eyes closed. "Just tired. I seem to have lost my bedroom."

"This is a huge chateau," he replied, slipping an arm around her waist.

Kenna giggled and turned, placing her hands on his shoulders. She opened her eyes and stared into his sea-coloured eyes. "Wow, I never knew your eyes were so beautiful..."

"Thank you."

"Can you help me? I... I think I may want a little nightcap..."

He chuckled, brushing her hair from her eyes. "You're so beautiful."

"I know," she replied flirtily.

He looked around before finally settling on her. "Should we continue the night in my rooms?"

"We should," she whispered, closing her eyes as she kissed him hungrily, gripping onto his cheeks.

His hand slid up her thigh, massaging her hip as their mouths battled for dominance against the brocade wall. He soon pulled away, wiping smudged lipstick from her lips.

"How can anyone resist you in a dress like that?" He asked.

"Exactly why I wore it in the first place," Kenna admitted. "I want you."

"You do?"

She nodded, a bit of uncertainty in her stomach but she ignored the warning signs. "I do."

"Well, let's go to my rooms then."


	2. Off To The Races

**Replies to reviews:**

**elder441 [chapter 1]: Some parts will be the same, but I am definitely not going on canon. I hated some of the show if I am honest, especially with the Frary drama. I found it unnecessary but the underlining fact of someone threatening/stalking Mary will be incorporated and dealt with. And dear me, I will definitely keep Lola and Francis away from each other and in this chapter, I have already made moves on that.**

****BlerBlerBler [chapter 1]: Yes, indeed! A lot of the mysterious revolution will be revealed as time goes on. Mary and her ladies will definitely look into it after finding out bits of information from the staff at the castle and other places. As the security put in place protected Francis since he's the dauphin, he could not make communication via electronic devices outside of France. Inside would be fine as the government could control and protect him, but as the heir, his parents are worried about hacking etc so they were only allowed contact through paper and pen which would be transported through vetted people. I am glad you do!****

* * *

Mary opened her eyes and smiled. She snuggled deeper into Francis's chest and he planted a kiss on her cheek, tightening his hold on her. It had been ages since they woke up like this, a good few years since they last saw each other. Love letters weren't the same as physically holding each other.

She had studied at university, working day and night to pass her degree prematurely than others. She had known that one day, she would belong to France and had wanted to do something for herself.

"You smell good..." He muttered, his eyes remaining closed. "Can't remember the last time I had one good sniff of you."

Mary laughed. "Are you a dog? You need to constantly sniff your mate for reassurance?"

"Well, when she's as beautiful as you are, then yes," came his reply. "I've really missed you. You have no idea how much."

"I think last night was a clear idea," Mary replied breathily.

Francis smiled, turning to get his phone to check the time. "Shit."

"What?"

"It's seven," he told her, getting out of the bed. "Our interview is in three hours but I should have been awake, since an hour ago."

Mary gasped, getting out of the bed and starting to look for her clothes. "I forgot your family did family breakfast at ungodly hours," she muttered, finding her bra and dress together.

"Your mother is probably screaming the castle down, looking for you," he said lightly. "Dear God, she frightened me yesterday at the press conference."

"I watched it," Mary replied, zipping her dress up as he retrieved a fresh set of clothes. "Your answers were spot on. I could see her facade falter at times."

"I've been taught by the best," Francis said. "My mother."

Mary giggled, coming over to kiss him. "I love you."

"I love you too," he replied. "You need to get going. We'll see each other at the interview."

With one last kiss, Mary left his rooms and headed out into the hallway. She looked left and right before tiptoeing through the halls and upstairs to the guest quarters. When she turned, she saw her mother walking away from their rooms angrily, seemingly looking for her.

Cursing she quickly opened a door and hid into it, sighing in relief when she saw it connected to her room as it was Kenna's room. She went over to the bed and pulled the sheets back but was surprised to see that it was empty.

Frowning, she checked the bathroom and found it empty. She turned and went into the wardrobe and found it also empty, Kenna's outfit for the day already laid out. Mary shook her head in wonder, knowing her friend never was an early riser.

"Mary!"

"Mum!"

"Where the hell have you been?" Marie asked, entering the wardrobe.

Mary looked around for an idea. "I got myself trapped in here whilst I was helping Kenna choose an outfit," she said, gesturing to the clothes. "She got called away for something by her secretary and I haven't seen her since."

Marie narrowed her eyes. "You've been here _all night_?"

"Yes," Mary said. "Well, not exactly. I've just not gone to my room. I went to sleep in Kenna's bed with her." She was relieved that she pulled the sheets back. "Then we woke up to sort out her outfit an hour ago and well... here we are."

"Then why was the door to the wardrobe open?"

Mary mentally cursed. "I had help. A maid came inside Kenna's room to clean it and I stayed in here to see if I'd borrow Kenna's clothes. I might as well."

Marie shook her head. "Then why is the bed still unmade?"

"I told her to leave. I do not trust the maids," Mary replied easily. "Kenna was saying a pair of her earrings had gone missing by the time we returned from the engagement party. I told the maid that I will clean the room myself."

Marie crossed her arms. "Alright. I will let things slide for now. Find Kenna, get bathed and dressed and meet Lola, Greer and me for breakfast within the hour. Clear?"

"Clear," Mary said.

After her mother left, Mary released a deep sigh of relief. She knew her mother wasn't stupid and she walked over to the bathroom and quickly sort herself out before borrowing one of Kenna's dresses. She might as well stick to her damned story.

The door opened and turned to see Kenna entering the room. The brunette jumped at her unexpected visitor and she closed the door behind her before collecting a towel.

"Are you going to ignore me?" Mary asked her.

"I met your mother on the way up," Kenna said. "You're lucky I'm a good liar because it seems like we've both come up with the same excuse."

"Tell me the truth and tell me where you were," Mary replied, taking a seat on the chaise.

Kenna sighed, bowing her head. "I was with... I was with the King all night."

"Kenna!" Mary cried out, standing up in shock. "Like _how_ exactly? Talking, proposing marriage prospects for you or what I think I'll probably throw up imagining."

"The last option," Kenna shakily admitted. "And that's not even the worse of it!"

Mary rolled her eyes hard. "Oh, what could be worse?"

"You know when I got a match on my app?" Kenna asked nervously.

"Yes...?"

"I matched with Baron Sebastian. We... We slept together before the party-"

"Oh my dear God," Mary muttered, sinking onto the bed. "You slept with my fiancé's brother and father on the same day?!"

"I didn't mean to!" Kenna cried out. "It's not like the Baron told me who he really was. I found out at the party. And as for last night... I drank a lot."

Mary wanted to wring Kenna's neck but she kept calm. "Avoid them both. You could get arrested, Kenna! For sleeping with the King of fucking France! Who is married!"

"He had me sign an NDA," Kenna replied dismissively. "It will never happen again."

"And Bash?"

"Sebastian and I... He doesn't want to pursue a relationship with me," Kenna said. "He thinks that me being a countess will look bad on both our parts as he's a baron. Even my parents won't care though and that annoys me because he does. Why does everything need to be about social class? If you took our titles away, we'll still be in the upper echelon."

Mary brought a hand to her head and shook her head. "I-I have no words. Why are you even thinking about a relationship with him when you slept with the man who _made_ him?"

"You know what? I'm not ready for this chat. Can we just attend this stupid breakfast, do your interview and get on with the rest of our day in hopeful peace?"

Mary nodded. "Yes. Yes, we can."

...

"Please, welcome the Dauphin de France and Duke de Anjou, His Royal Highness François and his beautiful bride, Marquise de Moray, Her Ladyship Mary Josephine," the news reporter said as the camera panned over to the couple.

Francis beamed, his hand squeezing Mary's under the desk as she also smiled. They both turned to the interviewer expectantly and Mary couldn't deny that she felt nervous about the whole affair. It was her first public speech of some kind and she felt that the preparation Monsieur Narcisse and her mother had given her wasn't enough.

"May I just say, toutes nos félicitations," the woman, Selena, said. She was going to speak mostly in English, they were told, as it was going to be broadcasted around Europe and English seemed universal enough but the woman still slipped into French for formal reasons such as their names and titles.

"Thank you," Francis said, taking the lead. He was going to be king one day, he had to speak before his beloved despite his dislike for that. She would be just as equal as he was.

"A week and three days until your wedding," Selena said, glancing at the camera. "An event very much looked forward to. The marriage between France and the United Kingdom. I heard that the Marquise was blessed by the Queen of England?"

Francis turned to Mary as she replied, "Yes, I was. She was very happy to see me get engaged to Prince François." Her eyes widened a little. She was supposed to refer to him as the Duke of Anjou. By the squeeze Francis gave her hand, she relaxed. "It is a strong alliance between France and Scotland, hence the United Kingdom overall." France was always mentioned first.

"I am glad," Selena replied. "Tell me, the preparations for the wedding has been very low-key. We have not seen you nor your Bridal Party attending wedding appointments."

"Well, the rehearsal dinner will be two nights before the wedding and the Marquise de Moray and I are very private people," Francis said, showing off an award-winning white smile. "However, expect to see my future wife going to try her dress one last time before the big day, this next coming couple of days."

Selena beamed. "I am excited! We all are!" She said. "There has not been a royal wedding in France since twenty years ago when your parents, King Henry VI de France and Queen Catherine de Italy got married in the Summer. Now, it is just in time for an Autumnal wedding."

"We thought it was time. You can be assured that our wedding will not be the only royal wedding this decade," Francis said charmingly. "My parents did have many children close in age."

"That is true, Your Highness," Selena said. "I talk about us and the King and Queen Catherine, but I did not ask... how are _you_?"

"I am happy," Francis replied. "More than happy. I am blessed and happy."

Selena turned to Mary. "And you, Your Ladyship?"

"Ecstatic," Mary said softly. "It is not every day you have your dreams come true..." She turned to Francis. "We have known each other since we were five years old and I knew that one day, we would belong to each other."

"That is so sweet," Selena gasped out. "You both truly make an attractive couple. I wish you all the best for your wedding and future."

"Thank you," Mary said.

"Yes, thank you," Francis also added.

Selena smiled and turned to the camera. "We have news that has just come through..."

...

"_Duke de Anjou_!" Marie cried out. "Is it so hard to say?"

"I-"

"This is not the UK," Marie calmly explained. "Things are done differently in France. Trust me, as a French native, I know."

Mary nodded stiffly. "I apologise."

"This is not a Disney fairytale, Mary," her mother continued. "There is no Prince Charming. Only Francis's siblings may be referred to as princes and princesses unless a person of duke ranking and above refer to him as 'prince' as he is above them as the dauphin replaces his 'duke' title. Even then, he will still be the-"

"Duke of Anjou," Kenna cut her off, pulling a face. "We understand, Aunt Marie! Can we go shopping now?"

"Kenna..." Lola said warningly.

Marie's eyes twitched. "Get out of my sight. All four of you," she snapped, walking away herself.

Mary turned to Kenna. "You cannot be picking fights!"

"Yes, you need to keep low," Greer told her. "I can't believe you slept with a prince _and_ the King!"

"Bash is not a prince," Kenna stated.

"But he is still the King's son," Lola said, shaking her head in disbelief. "Have you no shame?!"

Kenna rolled her eyes. "I regret it, I've signed the NDA so can we please, move on? I need new shoes for our trip to the bridal boutique tomorrow."

Mary sighed heavily and collected her handbag. She gestured for the women to stand and follow her as they left their room quarters. Francis had been pulled away for something so their afternoon was now free, not that anything was planned for them in the first place. It was only Mary who needed to be seen here and there strategically. She had to gain French supporters now.

"Mary!" Francis called her when he spotted her and her friends reach the bottom of the stairs. "I was planning to catch the last race of my brother's tournament. Would you like to accompany me? It would be good publicity for both our parts - the future king and queen attending a horse race. That and horse races are pretty much the only sport the people of France love to bet on. Not even cycling. Oh and if I do say so myself, our football national team are the best in the world. Even when we lose..."

"I hate sports," Mary said.

"Not today you don't," Greer told her. "Would we get to sit in a VIP box?"

Francis chuckled. "You three want to come as well?"

"Might as well," Lola replied. "Everywhere Mary goes, we go."

"Alright, Charlie's Angels," Francis said. "Mary, you're outnumbered."

"Fine," Mary said, sending Kenna an apologetic look. "Let's go."

Francis grinned, linking their arms as her friends followed behind. "Great. And yes, we do get to sit in a VIP couch," he said to Greer. "A lot of friends of Bash and I will be there. I've not been going lately, but they do and perhaps some may catch your eye..."

Greer smiled coyly. "Look at your fiancé, helping us secure our futures," she said before the women giggled.

...

"Ladies," Francis began, pointing towards his group of friends. "Meet Lieutenant Leith Bayard, he served in the French military from age sixteen to twenty. Comte Julien Varga, he also served in the army, reaching the rank of Captaine. And his twin brother, Vicomte Remy, he also reached Captaine."

"Army boys," Greer said in surprise, her eyes landing on Leith. "I am surprised that you'd be friends with army men, Your Highness."

Francis blushed. "Leith is Bash's friend originally. One drunken night years ago, he saved me from getting found out by my parents when the three of us decided to bar hop with fake IDs," he admitted. "But Julien and Remy were two years above me at school and always stopped me from getting bullied. I was a bit shorter than the average kid when I was eight."

"Even though you were a prince?" Lola asked, sharing a smile with Remy.

"I attended a private school and studied under my middle name and title," Francis said. "Simon Anjou."

"God, no wonder you were bullied," Kenna muttered, heading over to the bar. "Your name was _Simon_."

Francis scowled lightly. "I said they stopped me from getting bullied. I never was actually bullied."

Mary chuckled, rubbing his shoulder. "I am sure you could have defended yourself regardless," she said. "Shall we sit and let them get to know each other properly? I think Bash's race will start in half an hour."

Francis nodded, leading Mary to a seat at the front of the protected box. The windows were tinted and the seats were plush and leather, almost making Mary fall into a deep sleep as she sat down in her seat. She had her feet up and Francis copied, resting his legs on the ottoman in front of him as a waiter presented them with drinks.

"Is anyone joining the VIP box?" Mary asked him, sipping her cocktail.

"I forgot to say. This is the _royal_ VIP box. Platinum experience and all," Francis said. "Only we and our friends are allowed in here. Not even my parents."

"What?"

"I'm joking," Francis said. "About my parents not being allowed. Of course, they are but my mother never comes. She isn't Bash's mother. But my dad does come rarely, now that I think of it."

"How will Bash know we're here? Aren't the windows tinted?"

Francis smirked. "There's this red button that acts like a morse code generator with red coloured light. Five presses mean that I am here and Bash can see it on top of the box, just outside. I think I'll hold off on pressing it as I want to surprise him."

Mary smiled. "What a lovely idea."

At the bar, Julien joined Kenna and ordered her another drink just as she finished hers. She turned to him in surprise and accepted the next drink, taking a sip from it.

"So, what is your name?"

Kenna turned to him, then eyed Lola with Remy and Greer with Leith before turning back to Julien. "My name is... Pandora."

"Pandora?" Julien asked in confusion.

Kenna smirked. "As in, I am a Pandora's box. Open me and you'll be in for a lot."

"I only asked for your name out of courtesy," Julien admitted. "I know who you are."

"I am only here for the drinks," Kenna said. "I am not into horses."

Julien snorted. "Three months ago, in this very box after Bash won his seventeenth gold, we did research into Mary and her friends."

"Oh, just as curious as women," Kenna said, turning away from him. "Go on, what did you find out about me?"

"You're a comtessa. The third child of a Scottish duke and first child of your mother. Your birthday is a day before the Marquise's in January and that puts you both a month older than Francis. You have three brothers and two sisters. Oh, and you _are_ into horses."

Kenna sipped her drink and turned to face him. "Basic things. Everyone knows that about me-"

"You have a tattoo on your right bum cheek."

Kenna smirked. "Of what?"

"A purple rose."

"I _never_ show my arse to just anyone," Kenna told him. "I don't go public with swimwear photos or holiday pictures... So, how did you find that out?"

Julien froze. "Uh..."

"You know, don't you?" Kenna asked, leaning closer to him. "I should have guessed. Men do share stories about the women they slept with."

"I didn't mean to insult you, Comtessa," Julien quickly said as she got off her barstool. "We found him out of focus this morning during his training session. No woman has ever made him feel like that before. Not even Ro-"

"Julien, Mckenna," Francis called them. "Come and sit, they are doing the dressage round."

Kenna narrowed her eyes and shook her head. "Stay away from me, please," she requested softly before joining Francis and Mary.

She sat on Mary's left as Greer and Lola also took seats on her left side. From the corner of her eye, she saw Julien join his twin brother and Leith on Francis's right.

"He's debuting Oakley!" Leith cried out. "Could he take any more risks these days?"

Francis turned to Leith in confusion but didn't bring it up as he reached out for Mary's hand. He smiled when she took it and they both turned to where the judges were going over to Bash to inspect his horse before the race. Blue and gold. The colours of his family. He hoped the judges wouldn't be biased and this would be fair. After their father's stunt last night, Francis hoped it wouldn't affect the results.

...

"Silver," Francis said, eyes wide.

"Bash has never got silver before," Leith said. "He's not even got bronze! It's only ever been a winning streak of gold."

"At least he won the dressage?" Mary tried.

Francis winced. "After you win seventeen times and come second, nothing matters. Dressage is only a courtesy award."

"He's coming upstairs!" Greer announced as they all quickly rearranged themselves to look casual.

The door opened and Bash entered, eyeing them all suspiciously before heading to the bar for a drink already waiting for him. He sipped it and turned to face everyone.

"That was a close race, wasn't it?" Kenna said, looking up from her phone.

"Kenna!" Lola whisper-yelled.

"What?" Kenna asked, turning to Bash. "I do admit, the judges were biased but you lost out on gold by _one_ point. It was a split decision."

Francis walked over to Bash. "You can easily contest it. You deserved that gold."

Bash frowned, placing his drink down. "What are you all on?"

"Pardon?"

"You're treating this as if one of my horses died," Bash told them. "It was on purpose."

Francis blinked. "Wh-What?"

"I used Oakley on purpose. I lost _on purpose_. I was getting bored of winning all the time," Bash said, shrugging. "So I threw the match. And lost some wealthy men a few thousand euros whilst I did so."

Leith started laughing. "Only a prince gets bored of winning all the time," Leith said.

Bash scowled, turning to Francis. "That was why you saw me training with Oakley yesterday. I needed to make sure he'll be stubborn enough for me to lose. I was half-expecting bronze if I'm honest."

"Congratulations?" Mary said, confused.

"Thank you," Bash told her happily. "Why are you guys here? I thought you had your interview?"

"Some big political drama came up so it was rushed," Francis said. "So we came here for the last race which you admitted to deliberately sabotaging yourself."

Bash chuckled, sipping his drink. "I'm bored. I want to go onto the next thing."

"Which is?" Julien asked, coming up to the bar with Leith and Remy.

Bash cleared his throat. "Marriage."

Francis almost spat his drink out. "I told you-"

"Fine," Bash quickly said. "You were right."

He looked over at Kenna and saw her scrutinise him. He didn't expect her to be here, nor did he expect Francis as well. His life was full of surprises lately and he gave his friends and brother a warm smile.

"I need to think about my future and what it holds for me," he said. "Especially as you're getting married soon..."

"Well, we can work on that," Francis told him. "For now, we might as well celebrate your not-so win."

Bash smirked. "I don't know about you gentlemen and ladies, but I need some shots."

"Now, we're talking!" Leith replied.

...

Mary was surprised. When they returned to the chateau, without the other men, she could feel the effects of the alcohol working on her. She never knew that Francis could drink so much, let alone be easily encouraged to drink. Weren't they supposed to be sensible and restrict themselves of this nature?

"Is that how it always is?" Mary asked him as she used him a crutch. Her friends fared better than her although Lola was out of her wits as well as Michel and another guard guided them to their quarters.

"That was nothing," Francis replied lightly. "You should be there when he actually wins first place."

Mary groaned. "Dear God," she muttered. "I never knew my liver could hold that much. I feel for the cleaners of the ladies' bathroom."

Francis laughed. "We're not all uptight like my father and mother are," he told her. "We do let out hair down. I do admit, Leith and the twins are bad influences but I am glad I have them in my life. I'd be boring."

Mary turned to him with a smile. "I can understand that. Kenna parties all day and all night long when we're home in Scotland. She and the other girls are like my sisters."

"You don't talk about your half-brother."

"There's nothing to say about him," Mary said gently. "We don't get along."

Francis frowned. "I'm sorry to hear that."

She waved it off. "It's nothing."

They arrived at the guest quarters and Mary bid her friends 'goodnight' before following Michel and Francis to Francis's rooms. She now had a spare set of clothes so an occurrence like this morning didn't happen tomorrow.

"I need to see my mother about something but you get ready for bed and I will join you very soon," Francis told her, kissing her and then walking back down the hall just as she reached his door.

She looked over at Michel. "So, you follow him everywhere?"

Michel nodded. "My father was his security guard when he was born. I took over five years ago when he became Head of Security," he explained. "Now, I follow you."

Mary gave him a soft smile. "Do you follow him to clubs and the like?"

Michel nodded. "I even make most stories disappear."

"Like what?"

Michel paused. "You know the club scene," was his reply.

Mary didn't know. She suspected that Kenna and Greer did, but her mother was too strict to let her be subjected to clubbing. "No, tell me."

"Your Ladyship-"

"I know that Francis has probably been with other girls, that doesn't hurt me because I've also dated a few guys in the past before now... But does he do anything that I need to be concerned about?"

"Like what?"

"You tell me."

Michel sighed. "Drugs?"

"Yes," Mary said. "From what I saw today, he's good at hiding things. He probably has to with parents like King Henry and Queen Catherine. Does he do them?"

"Once or twice with the Varga twins," Michel admitted. "There were pictures - I made them disappear."

"Do I have to be wary of them? And Leith Bayard?"

Michel shook his head. "They were men who served in the war. Even the Baron did at one point but he was excused when his mother was sent to South Africa. They used drugs to get over their painful memories from their time in deployment."

Mary's eyebrows raised. "Bash was in the Army?"

"Yes, many men of nobility join the French Military Service," Michel said. "I did before I took this job. Although, Francis wasn't allowed to as heir to the throne. Anything could happen to the King's precious son."

"Are you telling me the truth?"

"I can't lie. I can twist the truth, but I can't lie."

Mary blinked. "Are you twisting the truth for me?"

"No."

"Why?"

"Marchioness Mary, the Valoises are powerful people. You need to be as guarded and hardened like the rest of them if you are joining their family. You're meeting Francis's sisters tomorrow. Do not let them break you," Michel said, opening the door for her. "My father knew yours. Before he died, my father promised to take care of you when he was stationed in Scotland. Things happened, he ended up in France and married my mother, in turn adopting me. Now, you're here and we will protect you."

Mary swallowed deeply. "I... I'm too drunk for this," she said quietly. "C-Can you find me tomorrow when I am free? We need to talk about this."

"Of course," Michel said, helping her inside. "Have a good night. I am off now, but there are two guards stationed in the next two minutes."

Mary nodded. "Thank you," she whispered, watching him leave and close the door behind him.

She was so surprised. She already knew about their power in France, but Michel had made it seem more unnerving than ever. Could there be a coup? Mary doubted it, this was the twenty-first century. The last revolution was during Napoleon III times.

She shook her head and turned, gasping when she found a woman standing there. She wore a maid's outfit and she wasn't the most attractive woman in the world. The woman seemed surprised at Mary's realisation that she wasn't alone.

"Who are you? What are you doing here?" Mary demanded gently, wincing as pain shot through her head. Damn her lack to reject alcohol.

"I-I am sorry. I never meant to... The Dauphin was busy last night so I couldn't..."

"Who are you?"

The woman seemed distressed. "He told me to come tonight. We need to speak. I need to see him, it's important."

Mary was alarmed. Was this one of Francis's former girlfriends? But she was not what men would usually go for... "Who are you?"

"Who are _you_?"

Mary rolled her eyes mentally. "The Marchioness of Moray, Mary Stuart-de Guise," Mary replied. "Francis's future wife." She held out her ring hand and showed the woman the ring.

The woman sighed in relief. "I'm Clarissa," the woman said. "Francis is my..."

"Your what?" Mary asked fearfully.

"Doesn't matter," Clarissa said softly. "I had some news for him. We're friends, you see. I was going to tell him today but I will leave you to your peace."

Before Mary could speak, Clarissa left and she sat down in confusion. Everything wasn't making sense. Michel, Clarissa, Bash being in the bloody army for some reason... This family had a bunch of secrets and she wasn't sure how she felt about that.

Sighing, she got ready for bed and waited for Francis.

...

Mary sat down at the table and watched as her friends picked and piled their plates full of food. She felt like throwing up, the effects of her hangover still present. She heard Kenna laugh at her.

"No crushed avocado and egg on toast?" She teased her. "It's your favourite."

"Shut up, Kenna," Mary snapped lightly before releasing a smile. "Francis was right as rain this morning. How can you guys do this every day?"

Greer shrugged, sipping her tea. "My liver gave up on telling me what to do a long time ago, love. Hey, I believe we are being joined by Elisabeth, Margaret and Claude?"

Mary nodded. "Elisabeth and Margaret are twins - eleven months younger than Francis. Claude is their younger sister, ten months younger than them. Dear God, I can't imagine popping out human beings so close to each other like that."

"I can't imagine you popping out human beings _period_," Lola said.

"Yes, with a figure like hers, who would want to ruin that?" Kenna added.

Mary tutted. "You do realise what it means to be the future queen, right? I will need to provide Francis with issues," she said, rubbing her head. "Two should do it, right?"

"No, more like nine," Greer told her. "Queen Catherine will be sure to sing your praises. Make it ten."

The women giggled and Mary looked up to see her mother enter with Michel and another guard. Her eyes met Michel's and she quickly glanced away and began eating her breakfast as her mother took a seat.

"Late, are we, Aunt Marie?" Kenna said teasingly.

Marie glared at her. "Do not test me, child."

Mary rolled her eyes and continued to eat. "Will you be joining us, Mother?"

"If you read your itineraries, you'd find out that no, I will not be joining you," Marie replied. "Too busy getting drunk with bastards and Army clowns, were we?"

The younger women dropped their cutlery and turned to Marie in shock, annoyance or fear. Marie looked at their reactions and nodded, taking a sip from her coffee.

"Show them the newspaper," she said to Michel.

Michel handed Mary a newspaper of the 'French Times' and she gasped when she saw the headline.

_'Alcoholic Future Queen'_

"Oh, my God," she whispered, showing the girls the newspaper as she covered her face.

"_'The future Queen of France and her betrothed, His Royal Highness, the Duke of Anjou, were seen acting shockingly at the French Equestrian Games Association yesterday morning. It seems that our future monarchs are day drinkers with no respect for the public. They were joined by the Dauphin's close friends, Comte & Vicomte Varga, Lieutenant Bayard and seventeen-time champion of the FEGA, Laurent Avoné as well as the Scottish ladies, Comtessa de Barton, Lady Seton-Norwood and Lady Flemming. Is this who will be making decisions for our country in the future? Drunk, party people? It is obviously the influence of the Scots. The Scots must go.'_," Greer read. She turned the newspaper around. "There's a lovely picture of you both groping each other and a lot of PDA."

Mary got up and threw up in the nearest potted plant. "We're in so much trouble."

"These pictures were photoshopped," Michel said, turning to Marie. "I was there. There was no shocking behaviour. Yes, their party were drinking and celebrating but the PDA was strictly prohibited."

Marie nodded curtly. "Is this true?" She asked Lola.

Lola nodded firmly. "We were waiting for the cars to arrive. And as you can clearly see, the writers have made the pictures very grainy to hide the fact that they doctored the pictures."

"The King and Queen won't believe that," Marie said, shaking her head. "Michel, can-"

"I find out the people who wrote this and confront them?" Michel finished for her. "Yes, yes I can."

He gave Mary a look and at that point, Mary knew what this was. This was to tarnish her name. Perhaps it was Queen Catherine. She acted cordially but only when necessary. Perhaps she didn't like Mary more than she was letting on.

"As you are going to the boutique appointment today, I have asked the best to follow you," Michel said. "That and he will hold any shopping that you may buy."

Kenna grinned. "That's nice. And he's attractive as well-"

"Avert your eyes, Countess," Lola teased her.

"Fabian, these lovely ladies are in your hands now," Michel said to him. "I will get to the bottom of this newspaper article. Enjoy your day, ladies."

He left and Mary returned to her seat, taking a sip of water. She didn't know what was going to happen. She was embarrassed enough and she should probably cancel today's plan.

"Ignore the newspaper," her mother finally said. "Focus on the dress fitting. I will have a photographer to take pictures of you that _we_ can spin into good publicity. Apparently, Monsieur Narcisse is good with things like this. I hope we do not have to pay that security guard extra for his efforts on catching who wrote the slander."

Mary nodded obediently. "Yes, Mother."

"Just... try and enjoy today. And no more drinking with random men."

"They are not random men," Greer said. "They are the Dauphin's close friends and his half-brother."

Marie cleared her throat. "Ah, yes. The Baron. Stay away from him too. I've heard that he likes the company of women too much."

"Is that a bad thing?" Kenna asked, licking some yoghurt from her teaspoon. "He's a good man. Very friendly and interesting."

"You are just saying that because you were all over him at the engagement party," Marie replied. "Mary, darling, just do not get yourself in any more unfavourable situations. I wouldn't want a love triangle on my hands."

Mary almost choked. "There won't be."

"Oh, not with you," her mother said, waving her hand as she slid her reading glasses on to the top of her head. "Your ladies. I know that Mckenna is prone to ménages à trois. They could blow onto you and leave you in a shitstorm."

Mary sighed, leaning back in her seat. "I can assure you that Kenna hasn't slept with anyone since we've arrived."

Kenna rolled her eyes. "Yes, I have not slept with anyone since I have arrived in France," she said. She did sign an NDA and the other man didn't want to pursue her. Technically, she was in the clear.

"Good," Marie said with a smile. "Cheer up, ladies. We won't back down easily. We're fighters, we will take everything that France throws at us in our strides."

Mary smiled. "We will."

When her mother looked away, her smile disappeared and she stared at the ring on her finger. She sure hoped that she could be able to deal with all of this drama in her life.


	3. Virgin Mary

**Replies to reviews:**

**elder441 [chapter 2]: She is! And it's not only on Mary.**

**I hope to do more Frary scenes, but I believe they will come when they're married. Right now, they're limited because they have roles to play but once they're married, they won't be judged for kissing, holding hands or PDA overall in public or away from their rooms. The next chapter is exciting, I promise you. **

****A chapter for ATEOTB is in the works. Ideas are welcomed for ATEOTB ;)****

* * *

When they arrived at the boutique, Mary was surprised to see a crowd of a hundred people waiting there behind barriers. There was an increased police presence and some of the people were cursing her way as she stepped out the car and took Fabian's hand.

He gave her hand a gentle squeeze, his eyes unreadable through his dark shades and the lack of comforting smile on his face. Mary figured that he had to be like that, he couldn't be seen comforting the nerves of the future Queen of France. She had to start acting like the brave woman she was who would one day be the wife of a powerful king.

As she walked towards the entrance, the doors opened for her and her friends, being quickly closed behind them and curtains were drawn to shield their activities inside. There was an aide of Stephane Narcisse who held an expensive camera in her hand as she directed four women into poses.

Mary gasped when she realised that in the middle of the other three, was Catherine de Medici. She walked up to the women and curtseyed, her friends copying their actions. She looked up, head held high and gave the Italian Queen a bright smile.

"I did not know that you would be joining us today," Mary said as she took a seat after Catherine sat down.

Catherine briefly looked to Mary's left where Kenna busied herself by looking at the many dresses before she said, "I had to make sure that yesterday's events did not blow over to today's. This appointment is important. It shows you actively preparing for your not-so-secret wedding."

"I understand," Mary said, crossing one leg over the other as she turned to the younger women. "Your Highnesses."

Elisabeth, the eldest out of the three smiled at her. "Now we have finally met informally, can I say that you are stunning, Marchioness?"

Mary beamed. "Thank you. Princess Elisabeth."

"Call me 'Lissie'," Elisabeth said, scowling. "Elisabeth is ever so formal. I couldn't even get 'Beth' to catch on."

Mary giggled as Margaret and Claude eyed her up and down. "It's lovely to meet you all."

"Do lose the formalities," Claude began. "We're all friends here."

"Well, we may be but your mother is the Queen," Mary said, making the women laugh. "Honestly, it is nice to have a conversation without a diplomat disturbing us and stealing me away."

Catherine raised her eyebrows. "It is," she agreed, getting up which made everyone stand. "Do sit. I am just getting the herbal tea. It will flush the system and make it easier to try on dresses. The rest of the ladies are trying on their official bridesmaid dresses."

Everyone sat back down and Catherine wheeled a tray full of tea, lemon, honey and leaves into the room. She started preparing each cup as her secretary placed them onto saucers.

"If you want something done," Catherine said as the other woman waited patiently. "Do it yourself."

Mary stood up from her seat and went over to one of the bridal dresses on display. It was very formal, very covered and it seemed to hug the figure of the mannequin. She wondered what her dress looked like but she had to wait until her wedding day to find out. Day in, day out, she'd be measured so they resized her dress but she couldn't see the final form until the big day itself.

Kenna joined her side and put an arm over her shoulder, also staring at the dress. "Pretty bland, isn't it?"

"And very white," Mary said nervously. "You'd think they would expect the Virgin Mary..."

"Hmm," Kenna hummed. "It's still pretty. Didn't Meghan Markle wear something like it?"

Mary nodded. "She did," she said. "I want something more... exciting. More revealing. More-"

"Seductive?"

Mary turned to her best friend and scoffed lightly. "I will be a queen. But if I were to remain a princess, then yes. Seductive."

Kenna squeezed her shoulder. "Your mother knows you. She will get the dress right. At least you have a say in what the rest of us wear."

"Blue," Mary said. "That was all the brief said. Blue with gold jewellery and accessories. The children wear red with gold and Francis and I wear white with gold."

"Don't worry about it-"

"We have just over a week-"

"You're best friends with a fashion _icon_," Kenna said. "I make trends happen, I look like perfection for anything I do. Even using the bathroom, I make that look like I'm an angel."

Mary smirked a little. "Thank you."

"You're welcome, Mary," Kenna said as Greer joined them. "What do you think about this dress?"

Greer rolled her eyes. "Too basic. We're making a _queen,_ not a pauper."

They giggled and Catherine called them back to their seats. One by one, the Queen served the women and when she got to Kenna, she held her gaze for a little longer than the rest.

"I prepared this one especially for you. Duchess Marie said that you have a stricter diet than the rest," Catherine said.

Kenna was stunned and she nervously thanked her. "You did not have to," she said. "I could have done without."

"Not at all," Catherine said, moving along to the tray again. "This will be sure to make you remain your pretty, little figure. It is like you were moulded into perfection."

Kenna blushed. "I would not say that."

"No?" Catherine asked, handing Greer her cup. "I have seen every man fall for you. Are you oblivious?"

Kenna stilled. "I do not subject myself to the desires of men." She turned to Mary, placing her cup down. "We should probably get that first dress on."

"We should," Mary agreed, sipping her tea before placing it down and getting up. "Wish me luck."

"You do not need it," Margaret told her. "Your dress is already chosen and it won't be any of these disgusting, overpriced tablecloths but something elegant and respectable. Like you."

Mary grinned. Perhaps, Francis's sisters weren't going to eat her up alive as Michel said. Or maybe this was meant to lure her into a false sense of security. Either way, her guard didn't break as she disappeared behind the dressing room curtain.

...

Kenna chuckled after Lola said a joke. Mary was trying her tenth dress on and the women were starting to become restless. The dresses after dresses were starting to get more disappointing than the one before and Kenna wondered when they were going to try their own dresses on.

"You haven't touched the tea that Queen Catherine made you," Greer said under her breath.

Kenna shrugged. "I think she knows."

"Knows what?"

Lola rolled her eyes. "She can't know."

"A woman like Catherine de Medici knows everything that happens at Fontainebleau," Kenna replied. "I wouldn't trust anything she gives me."

The women turned when they heard a clatter of objects fall and saw Narcisse's aide sway on her feet. Getting up, they helped her over to their seating area and waved off her pleas.

"I haven't eaten since yesterday," she admitted shyly. "Monsieur Narcisse had me working on good publicity for the Royal Family. I couldn't let him down."

"Don't be silly," Kenna said. "You are doing a good job. Those photographs of Mary are stunning and the newspapers will eat it up and see how wonderful she is, thanks to _you_."

Antonia blushed. "T-Thank you."

"Oh, do drink something," Lola said, quickly checking to see whether the Queen and her daughters were around. They were somewhere at the back of the boutique, shopping for jewellery with the manager.

"I couldn't-"

"Take this," Greer said, picking up Kenna's full cup of herbal tea and putting it into Antonia's hands. "We won't tell anyone."

Antonia smiled in relief and drank the cup whole before Kenna offered her some cake. "That will boost my energy up. Thank you all so much."

"Don't thank us," Kenna said happily. "Anything for someone in need."

After a while, Antonia returned to her duties and Mary returned from the dressing room, standing on the stool and showing off the latest dress.

"This... actually is not so bad," Mary said, checking herself out in the mirror filled room as her friends got up to admire the dress. "So they _do_ have nice dresses."

"Too white," Kenna said. "You are _not_ the virgin everyone believes you are."

"Shut up!" Mary cried out, blushing. "I can't be wearing cream white at my own wedding. It's ugly."

Greer gasped. "What if they intend to put you in Catherine's old dress?"

"Dear God, did you see the old articles on that dress? I heard it has its own vault in the Versailles castle," Lola said.

"It was branded the ugliest of dresses," Kenna said with a smirk. "Puffy shoulders, vanilla cream, Italian lace-"

"Are you describing my wedding dress, Contessa?" Catherine's Italian accent rang through.

Kenna froze. "Yes, I was, Your Majesty," she said, turning to face her. "I was telling Mary that she should hope her own dress is as beautiful as yours was. People still talk about it today. I heard it cost in the regions of a million euros?"

"One point two to be exact," Catherine said. "I had it imported from Italy." She turned to Mary. "I think I was around your size back then. Perhaps we can alter it and see what we can do with it."

Mary almost fainted. "Oh, I would not. It's..." _Old and hideous_. "Very, very delicate and I would not want to ruin that. Perhaps you should save it for your daughters."

Catherine nodded politely. "I should," she said, turning around just in time to see Antonia cover her mouth and rush to the toilets. "What is wrong with her?"

Kenna went over to the seating area and lifted up her mug, taking a discreet sniff. "It's probably nerves, Your Majesty," she told the Queen, swallowing deeply. It smelt strongly of medicine - laxatives perhaps. She had been prone to experience the effects of one or two in her lifetime.

"I will check on her," Lola said, leaving after Antonia.

"We should cut this short," Elisabeth suggested. "Monsieur Narcisse will be highly disturbed by his aide taking ill so suddenly."

"No," Catherine said, glaring at Kenna. "We will stay. You have to try on the bridesmaid dresses."

Kenna turned to Mary, placing her cup down. "Her Majesty is right, Mary. What do you say?"

Mary looked between Catherine and Kenna before nodding. "We'll stay."

...

"Don't be stupid-"

"That cup was _mine_. She intended for me to embarrass myself!" Kenna cried out, pacing Mary's bedroom. "She knows."

Greer shook her head in disbelief. "It's your fault. Why did you sleep with the King in the first place?"

"I never meant to!" Kenna replied angrily. "He was... He was so alluring and he coerced me to his rooms knowing full well that I was out of it. I think at one point, I believed he was Bash."

"I told you," Lola said. "I told you that one day you'd get in trouble for your promiscuous ways."

Kenna glared at her. "Now a queen wants to poison me."

"It was only laxatives."

"Oh, that's how it starts. Soon, it will be magic mushrooms and she will make sure that everyone knows what happened!"

Mary groaned, lying back on her bed. "I will apologise to her on your behalf. I will do it in a way that doesn't put you in the picture. I will take the blame."

"Don't do that-"

"You're my responsibility. All of you," Mary said, sitting back up. "I asked you all to follow me so if anything happens, it's on me."

Lola gave her a sad smile. "Well, I would stay for longer but Remy invited me out for tea."

"First name basis, are we?" Greer teased her.

Lola blushed. "And what about you and Leith? The Lieutenant seemed smitten with you."

Greer grinned. "What can I say? Blondes attract other blondes." She then feigned a swoon. "I wonder what it would be like to be with twins. I think they're the same. _All over_."

"Greer!" Mary cried out, throwing a pillow at her.

Greer giggled. "Lola's lucky and you aren't doing so bad yourself, Mary," she said teasingly. "Francis's brother is not that bad looking and did you see him when he was riding his horse?"

Kenna shot Greer a glare. "I dare you to keep talking about him like that," she said before sitting down and sighing. "I need to become a nun."

"You really do," Mary told her, grinning. "But don't worry. I will speak to Bash on your behalf. And salvage your tryst with King Henry."

Kenna nodded gratefully. "Thank you," she said, getting back up. "I am going to take a walk. Probably go to the Seine, do some shopping..."

"Shopping does cheer you up," Greer said. "I would join you but Leith asked me to visit his mother's bakery with him. They sell macarons."

"Well, you all enjoy your days," Mary said. "I will try and find Queen Catherine and hopefully spend some quality time with Francis."

"Not that you won't during your month-long honeymoon," Kenna stated.

Mary chuckled. "Can you blame us? We haven't seen each other in three years! We're making the most of things."

Greer got up and patted her shoulder as she made her way to the door. "Keep that up and France will have her new second in line to the throne."

...

Mary opened the door when she was granted access and walked over to Catherine who sat at her desk, writing something. She watched as Catherine raised an eyebrow under her reading glasses and Mary cleared her throat to speak but Catherine got there first.

"What can I do for you, Marquise?"

Mary gave her a tight smile. "The herbal tea this morning," she began. "I noted that Antonia was dismissed for the week."

"Oh, wasn't that just terrible? I never knew she was allergic to some of the ingredients-"

"Not allergic," Mary cut her off gently. "She was given laxatives. And that tea was intended for my friend, Countess Mckenna."

Catherine paused before saying, "I overheard her talking about an unsettled stomach after your breakfast," she said. "I wanted to ease her of her discomfort before the wedding plans solidified. We need a strong Bridal Party for the wedding day."

Mary stood her ground. "I find that unnecessary, Ma'am," she said politely. "My ladies can take care of themselves."

"I am sure they can. But it seems as if they cannot stop themselves from getting into certain situations," Catherine told her.

Mary looked her straight in the eye as she said, "If anything out of the ordinary has occurred since we've arrived, then I apologise for that. I hold full responsibility for my ladies and should any repercussions occur, divert them to me and we can provide a suitable solution."

Catherine slammed her pen down on the table. "You... You are a clever girl, aren't you?"

"I am," Mary said. "I won't be bullied out of a position we have all worked fifteen years and even longer to make happen. This marriage is beneficial to all parties involved, Your Majesty. It would be wise to take that into consideration."

Catherine raised both eyebrows now. "Who are you to talk to me like that?"

"Why, I am the future Queen of France, _Catherine_," Mary said firmly. "It is time I acted like it."

She turned around and left, closing the door behind her. As she walked, she felt a presence behind her and she stopped. Turning around, she faced Michel and gave him a small smile.

"You heard everything?"

"There are cameras everywhere. The footage was being fed to the headquarters of security and in turn, me," he replied. "Well, the words said."

"We need to talk."

"We do," Michel said. "Right this way, Your Ladyship."

...

Kenna handed her newly bought items to her security guard. She felt happier, more relaxed. Shopping always did that for her and she was relieved that her parents never bothered to berate her every time they got her bank statements. Her allowance increased and she never wanted for anything as she'd get it immediately.

"What do you think, Gaskell?" She asked her guard. "Should we try Chanel?"

"Your card is crying," her guard said with a straight face.

Kenna laughed. "Now, that is a lie. It never cries," she said as they continued to walk down the pavement. "You probably think I am some spoilt, little rich brat."

"I have seen your love for jewellery," Gaskell began. "I do think you're spoilt and rich but not bratty."

Kenna nodded happily. "Good. Let's put these in the car with the other guard and visit the next shop on my list."

After dropping her shopping off, they returned to the shop street. She had a lot of clothes, but lots more didn't hurt. It definitely wasn't hurting her bank and she had to keep all those worrying thoughts out of her head.

Like the Queen of France trying to hurt her for one.

"Do you know the Baron of Avon?" She asked Gaskell.

Gaskell nodded. "I have come into contact with him a few times, yes."

"What can you tell me about him?"

Gaskell shrugged. "Not much, Comtessa," he replied. "The King does not like to engage in matters regarding Baron Sebastien that much. They're not close."

"I have gathered that," Kenna muttered. "I mean, would you know if he has admirers?"

"No..." Gaskell said. "Although, there was one."

Kenna stopped and turned to him which made him stop as well. "Who?"

"The Lady Rowan. He did not love her but she was-"

Kenna jumped when Gaskell fell down unconscious in front of her. Before she could scream, a hand covered her mouth and she tried fighting but another figure dressed all in black stopped her.

Slowly, she felt drowsy and her eyes began to close. She mumbled, trying to stay awake but her eyes closed and her body slumped.

Everything was black.

And silent.

...

Mary gasped. "So, Italy _owns_ France?"

Michel nodded. "When the Baron was born, King Henry realised how much debt France was in. There were reparations needed to be paid from the revolution and coup. The one on Napoleon III. He needed to make France money fast and he married Princess Catherine, the eldest daughter to the King and Queen of Italy. To this day, Italy bail France out in sticky situations."

"So, the Royal Family are in debt?"

"A lot," Michel admitted. "And Henry didn't realise until it was too late. Even the Prime Minister kept it from him."

"And what about my marriage to Francis?"

Michel turned to her. "Your family are old money. Very wealthy on both sides, even your uncles rule the French Army and Naval service. Henry realised that the day he met your father. He planned for your mother and your father to marry so he introduced them to each other and let nature work itself out. He struck gold."

"So, Bash was just collateral?" Mary asked sadly.

Michel smiled a little. "The Baron enjoys his life very much. It is easier for him, but things are still difficult. I think it would be hard to see your younger brother become king as opposed to you. But he has taken it in his stride. I do not blame him, the family are toxic at times."

"And you want me to join this family?" Mary asked dubiously. "I feel like we're friends now with how much your family has done for mine without me ever knowing. Tell me honestly, what are your thoughts?"

Michel sighed. "I think you will be a good fit for this family. You have something to offer, something to help change their image. Just be wary because once you're married to Francis, the game will change."

"His sisters were lovely-"

"I believe only Margaret is truly kind-hearted. Elisabeth can be cold and calculating like their mother and Claude is spiteful. As the third daughter, she causes trouble for her parents and in turn, for the whole family," Michel explained. "Claude's bite is worse than her bark."

Mary crossed her arms and sighed. "Thank you," she said. "For telling me all of this."

"It is my honour," Michel replied. "If you need anything, tell me."

"Thanks," she said. "Where is Francis?"

"He attends meetings with his father. Sits down in the corner quietly and studies how he acts and addresses people," Michel said. "Doing what he needs to be the good king France needs in the future."

Mary smiled a little. "I better wait for him then. Walk me to my rooms?"

"Of course."

As they passed the windows, Mary noted that it was dark. She had probably missed dinner with her conversation, but she didn't mind. Dinner wasn't important and her mother knew she was still feeling awful after yesterday.

"Mary!" She heard Lola call her when they arrived. "Mary, have you seen Kenna?"

"No, I haven't," Mary said, turning to Michel. "Perhaps she's still shopping. She can always spend days in one store alone."

Greer joined them. "I've tried her phone. She always answers."

"Why aren't you concerned that _I_ missed dinner?" Mary teasingly asked.

"Oh, we knew you hadn't left the castle and would probably be with Francis," Greer replied. "But when food comes calling, Kenna is here. She loves French cuisine."

Lola turned to the windows. "Well, it's only seven in the evening. I think she'll be here soon."

"Yes," Mary told them. "Don't worry. She needed this shopping trip more than ever. I have dealt with the Queen for now. All we have to do is keep quiet until my wedding day and then you will be allowed to go back to Scotland or stay and take up residence in France." She gave them a wide smile. "I hope the latter."

"Of course," Greer told her. "Well, we better get ready for bed. And make a decision on the bridesmaid dresses. We came to the conclusion that number seven, two and nineteen were strong contenders."

Mary giggled. "I can't believe we're almost there."

"You better believe it," Greer said. "Now, let's hurry up so you and lover boy can spend the night together again."

Michel curtly bowed and walked away, taking his phone out of his pocket as he heard the women enter their rooms. He nodded at the guards who were stationed at with the women and continued heading downstairs, dialling Gaskell as he did so.

No answer.

He tried again but to no avail.

He then tried the driver. Also no answer.

Sighing, he made his way to the security headquarters and found his father going through the day's CCTV with a few other security men. Sitting down, he looked at his father.

"The Comtessa de Barton," Michel said. "Her friends are worried about her."

His father turned to him briefly. "Who are her guards?"

"Gaskell and Xavier. Neither are answering."

Before his father could speak, the said men entered, one holding a pack of ice to the back of his head. He took an unsteady seat and the other one turned to the others.

"We have a situation," Xavier said.

"And that is?" Michel's father demanded.

"This can't get out," Gaskell told him. "The Queen orchestrated it."

Michel gasped. "What do you mean?"

"Queen Catherine believes that the Comtessa de Barton slept with the King on the night of the engagement party," Xavier explained. "It is true. I can confirm that evening's events and I signed an NDA along with the Comtessa."

"Dear God," Michel's father muttered. "What do we do?"

"Nothing," Gaskell said. "It is not our business. We let her deal with her. We work for the Royal Family. Not some Scottish harlot."

Michel swallowed deeply. "Indeed. Back to work, all of you. Gaskell, you're dismissed."

...

Kenna was frightened. She knew exactly who was behind this, there was no hiding that fact. She could smell the damp air of the place where she was bounded up, the stench of the cloth that covered her eyes. She could feel the bleeding cut on her forehead from where they threw her ungracefully onto the floor. She could even feel her split lip from where she got slapped for demanding to know where she was along with threats about her powerful family.

She stilled when she heard heels on the concrete ground. She felt her chin behind forced to look up and her eyes were suddenly exposed to light. She looked down but she felt the sharp nails dig into her neck.

"Look at me."

Kenna swallowed deeply and looked up to see Catherine staring down at her. "I-I..."

"You-You 'what'?" Catherine asked her.

"I don't know why you're doing this-"

"Henry told me," Catherine said. "Right before he asked for an open marriage. In our twenty-one years of being together, I was mortified. The thing is, you are so beautiful, so clever and you go for someone like _him_?"

Kenna closed her eyes, tears slipping down her cheeks. "It was a mistake. I was upset."

"So you did a stupid, very childish thing?" Catherine asked, feigning empathy. "Do you know what this is? This is _treason_."

"I will go back to Scotland," Kenna said. "Don't kill me. No one needs to know."

"This can get out," Catherine said. "This can tarnish the Valois name. The Royal Family. France, overall. Your one night of passion has potentially destroyed a nation."

Kenna sobbed. "I'm so sorry."

"What did he see in you?" Catherine asked softly. "There's nothing special about you. Nothing worth losing a crown for. Destroying lives for."

"We were drunk."

"Drunk or not, this affects your beloved friend as well," Catherine stated. "This could stop her from being Queen of France. Because we would have lost our reign. Then we what? Try and take the throne from my brother in Italy or the throne in the United Kingdom? Neither seems realistic."

Kenna nodded stiffly. "I understand. And I will leave the castle, return home and never come back to France again."

She gasped when Catherine clutched the back of her head, her hair being pulled tightly in the older woman's grip. She jumped when Catherine's face came close to hers and she averted her gaze.

"Don't bother," Catherine hissed. "Your friend will be too suspicious. Do not speak a word of this, do you understand me?"

"I do," Kenna whispered, sobbing. "I do."

...

By eleven, Mary left her rooms and made her way towards Francis's. She was confused as to why Kenna wasn't back yet, but she passed Fabian and Michel and gave them a bright smile before entering the rooms and making her way into the bedroom area.

She found Francis in bed, reading a book about how to overcome one's enemies. She gave him a cheeky smile. "So I am your enemy now?"

Francis looked up, confused. "What?" His eyes landed on the book before he chuckled. "Oh, my father recommended it to me. It's really good."

"I'm intrigued," she said. "Tell me about it."

Francis shook his head, putting a bookmark on the page he was reading before placing it on his bedside table. "No. I want to do something else. More specifically, _you_."

Mary giggled when he rolled onto her, attacking her face with kisses. "I've missed you."

"Same," he said. "Today was boring, you had to do the fun stuff."

Mary sighed, shaking her head. "Not exactly..."

"How do you mean?"

"Well, Kenna didn't come for dinner nor come back to the castle. Oh, and your mother tried poisoning Kenna."

Francis gasped. "Wait, what? Why?"

"Don't worry about it," Mary muttered. "It's nothing."

"My mother wouldn't do something like that," Francis said. "She's the Queen of France."

Mary resisted the urge to roll her eyes. Exactly why she could do something like this. "Just a silly disagreement between the two."

"Right," Francis said. "I see. I'm sure Kenna's fine."

"Mhm. Don't worry about it," Mary told him, kissing him deeply. "I'm ready to be done."

Francis burst out into laughter, snorts and giggles coming out of his lips as she waited patiently for him. As he took his shirt off, he said, "I don't think I've ever heard someone say that."

Mary grinned, undoing the buttons to her pyjama shirt. "Neither have I, to be honest."

"Well, let me do you then," he said, unable to keep a straight face as he got off her and laughed.

"Do me _very_ well."

"Please, stop!"

"Not medium rare-"

"Mary-"

"Or rare. But well done."

"Your jokes are terrible," Francis told her. "We'll work on your humour before we become king and queen, don't worry."

Mary snorted. "Can't wait for the lessons."

...

Kenna got out of the Uber and walked up to the only guarded house on the row of townhouses. They reminded her of the homes at Chelsea and Kensington back in London.

She had never been here before but remembered either Julian or Remy giving her this address, saying that the owner of the house always threw the best parties whenever the lady of the house was away.

It was quiet tonight.

"Excusez-moi, you cannot come closer," the female security guard said, stopping her.

"Can you help me, please?" Kenna asked her.

The woman warily looked her up and down and sighed, speaking into her radio device. "We have a woman who looks like she's been attacked. Ask His Lordship if we should help."

A positive reply came through and the guard turned back to Kenna. Kenna swallowed deeply, feeling her split lip sting as she licked her wound, tasting the metallic taste of blood.

She shivered, realising that she didn't have a coat. She was wearing a purple, silk, flowery dress with no sleeves and she wore combat boots as opposed to heels. She hadn't wanted her feet to hurt as she shopped.

The front door opened and a security guard whispered into the woman's ear before they turned to her and nodded. She followed after the man as the woman kept at her post.

"Your name?" He asked.

"K-Kenna," Kenna replied. "Uh, the Baron knows me."

He looked at her dubiously but he led her into the study where a doctor was. He gestured for her to sit down and he left soon after, the doctor turning in his seat and beckoning to come closer to him and his set of supplies.

Kenna realised that the family would have private and personal medical care. Who needed a hospital if you had one inserted into your home?

"Laceration to the forehead and bruised nose and cheek," he stated, gently gripping her chin to inspect her injuries.

"H-How did they...?" The woman only said she was hurt.

"CCTV is all over the place," the doctor said. "Even in here. Clear as rain. We could see the injuries from the screen."

Kenna winced when he dabbed some antiseptic on her head. "Sorry."

"It's fine," he said, continuing to clean her wound. "How do you know the Baron?"

"Is he home?"

The doctor paused. "People normally keep walking when they see a heavily guarded house," he said. "You are the first to come with a purpose, knowing the Baron apparently. No one knows he lives here other than the people we've seen pass through those doors. Not even his neighbours."

"He's my friend," Kenna told him as he placed a plaster onto her head. "We... we were involved once."

"I am Dr Winter," he finally said, disregarding her words. "You may have a concussion." He checked her eyes. "You can't rest just yet but if you need me, call me."

"Are you done?"

He nodded. "Your injuries are superficial. Should heal without a trace within the month," he replied, taking his gloves off and disposing of them.

"Thank you, Dr Winter."

"You're welcome," he said just as the door opened and Bash stepped inside.

Within a flash, he was by her side, brushing her hair away to inspect her face and cut. "What happened?" He asked, much to Winter's surprise and even the male guard from earlier's.

"Can we talk in private?" Kenna asked fearfully.

Bash nodded. "Dr Winter, Elliot, if you could excuse the Comtessa and me?"

Winter nodded and left with Elliot, closing the door behind them. He was curious about the Baron's visitor but he didn't say anything about the matter to the guard. He merely returned to his bedroom.

In the office, Kenna hugged Bash tightly. "I did something stupid."

"What?" Bash asked, pulling away from her.

Kenna's eyes fell. "I slept with the King," she whispered. "And Queen Catherine found out and orchestrated this whole thing. I think the security guards were in on it and I was taken somewhere where she threatened me and hit me and... She let me go, making me promise that I'll keep quiet about the whole thing."

Bash sighed heavily. "My stepmother... She's protective of what belongs to her but what she doesn't know is that my father never belonged to her. Not wholly."

"What does that mean?"

"My father loved my mother. He still does," Bash said quietly. "But certain circumstances that I still don't know to this day made him choose Catherine. Since then, he's had multiple affairs and my mother stayed away from France as much as possible."

"I'm sorry," Kenna mumbled.

"What for? My parents or the fact you slept with my father?"

"Everything," Kenna sobbed. "I'm self-destructive, it's my nature."

Bash nodded. "But I can't fault you. It's what he does, he... he finds out about any woman I'm interested in or is interested in me and he takes them. To show me a lesson that he can have whatever he wants, even if they're not my mother. It's sick, I know but that's life."

Kenna frowned. "That's cruel-"

"It's a price I'm willing to pay. I'm just hoping for the day he wakes up and smells the ashes of the kingdom he's burnt down and starts changing things for the better," Bash replied.

"You're too optimistic," Kenna said with a soft smile.

"There are people in far worse positions than me," Bash told her. "I can't complain whilst I have a house like this, personal staff to cater to all my needs, my prized horses..."

Kenna looked away. "Who is Rowan?"

"Rowan was my father's test subject. I didn't love her, but I could see a future with her. Her family were new money who lost all their wealth in dodgy tradings and my father offered her ten million if she slept with him. She took it and disappeared."

Kenna's eyes widened. "I'm so sorry-"

"What did he offer you?"

Kenna closed her eyes. "Nothing at all. Sweet talk, I guess... Come morning, he kicked me out of his rooms and I felt like I needed to bleach my whole body. I couldn't believe I was so drunk, I slept with him. Someone I didn't want in the first place."

"He used you," Bash stated, getting up. "Before I found out that you were here, I was having a drink with Bayard. Do you want to join us?"

"I'm staying well clear from alcohol," Kenna whispered.

"I have juice," Bash said. "And tea. With lots of sugar. Helps with shock."

Kenna looked up and smiled at him. "Tea sounds great."

...

The next morning, Mary joined her mother, Greer and Lola for breakfast. She noted that Kenna wasn't there and her mother seemed quite relieved about that fact. They would have found something to squabble about, leaving her in the middle.

"No Kenna?" She asked anyway.

Lola shook her head. "Her room was untouched," she said. "I found her phone on her bed."

"And that's the strange thing," Greer continued. "Because we clearly saw her leave with her phone when she left yesterday."

"You don't think..." Mary trailed off, the women turning to her oblivious mother. She swallowed deeply and looked at Michel who shrugged in reply. "Perhaps she came back, left her phone and went back out."

"Indeed," Marie said, looking up from her newspaper. "Good things today. Lady Lola, read it aloud."

Lola collected the newspaper and cleared her throat. "'_Stunning Scottish Bride. The future Queen of France was seen beautifully attending a dress appointment for the final fitting before the wedding day. She was joined by the current Queen Of France, Her Majesty Queen Catherine, and Her Royal Highnesses Princesses Elisabeth, Margaret and Claude. It seems as if the events at FEGA were an attempt at a bachelor and bachelorette party. We cannot deny, the Dauphin and Marquise deserve it._'"

"I will take it," Mary said, sharing a smile with Lola and Greer. "Any plans for today, ladies?"

Marie sipped her tea slowly before swallowing her gulp. "I have matters to attend to with my family. Your uncles are coming back from their tours. I need to make their homecoming special."

"Send them my love," Mary replied. "Uncle Christian promised me something-"

"I will retrieve that keyring for you. Completes your collection, does it?"

Mary chuckled. "It does," she said, turning to her friends. "Uncle Christian always got me keyrings from every country he visited. We've got to the last country."

"How nice," Greer said. "The most one of my uncles gave me was advice on how to pick the wealthiest one."

They giggled Mary continued to eat. She lifted her phone from the table and sighed when there was nothing from Kenna. No word, no text, nothing. Not that she was worried, Kenna could hold her own.

Placing her phone back down, she smiled to herself, the newspaper story in her mind.

...

Francis sipped his juice, watching as his parents conversed quietly and his siblings ate. It was the same old thing, boring breakfast with his boring family. Well, they weren't boring, but they made even menial things more boring than they needed to be.

His mother was slightly chipper than usual and his father's eyes were cold and calculating. But his voice was soft. It always was when it came to Catherine de Medici. He had never ever raised his voice at her, but he had at Diane.

"Hattie, Emone, Louis, do _not_ play with your food," Catherine said, cutting into the silence between the siblings.

"Yes, Mother," the younger children said.

Francis looked down at his own plate. On this table alone, it could feed thirty let alone a family of eleven. He sighed, shaking his head as he placed his fork down.

"Francis, you're not eating?" Henry asked, surprised.

"I'm not hungry, Dad," he said. "May I be excused?"

Henry turned to Catherine. Of course, she was the head of the family. He only owned a kingdom. "Wife?"

"You are excused, Francis," Catherine said, glaring at Claude who was getting ready to leave herself. "The rest of you, _eat_."

Francis smirked to himself when Lissie, Margo and Claude glared at him. Even Charlie and Henri seemed displeased. It wasn't his fault that he was next in line and the Dauphin of France. He got away with most things.

When the doors closed behind him, he slipped his phone out of his pocket and was surprised to see a video message from Leith. Looking around, he inserted his headphones into his phone and put them on, clicking 'play'.

He laughed when he saw Bash and Kenna, spinning an empty bottle of wine with Leith egging them on in a game of Truth or Dare. He frowned a little when Leith filmed Kenna zoomed in and she blocked his view on her. It was impossible to miss, the half of her face was a mess.

He kept rewinding and forwarding, ignoring the laughter coming from the three as he studied Kenna. Mary had said she hadn't turned up for dinner and this morning, it seemed that Kenna was still not here. It was now clear that she was at the Avon Townhouses with Bash and Leith.

He took his headphones out and turned just in time to see Mary coming down the hallway with Lola and Greer, the three giggling about something. Had Kenna returned?

"Hello, Your Highness," Greer greeted him and she and Lola curtseyed.

"Please, don't," Francis begged them, making them laugh. "We're friends."

Mary grinned. "So my friends are your friends now?"

"Seems that way," he replied, kissing her cheek. "I have today free. What about you ladies?"

"We were going to visit the Eiffel Tower. Be tourists for the day," Lola told him.

Francis grinned. "How about we do that tomorrow?"

"'We'?" Mary asked.

"Yes, because I will be your personal tour guide," Francis informed them.

"How?"

"I have the best disguises my mother's make up artists have to offer," Francis said. "Today, we'll visit Avon."

"What for?" Greer asked.

Francis lifted his phone to their eyesight. "I found Kenna."


	4. A Day As A Tourist In Paris

**Replies to reviews will be in the next chapter. Won't post anything for a few days, got my birthday on Monday so will pretty much be celebrating for days straight, haha. Thanks, everyone!**

* * *

"Are you sure she won't mind?" Kenna asked Bash as she put makeup on to hide her injuries. She smiled when she felt his hands on her shoulders as he eyed her through the mirror.

"My sister is barely here," he said. "She has a whole factory full of makeup, she doesn't need this set."

Kenna chuckled. "I can't believe your eldest sister is a makeup mogul and your other sister is a fashion designer and models her own work," she said, fixing her hair. "I'm so jealous. Their work is highly loved and respected in Europe!"

"Well, we all have our own successes," he replied, heading away from her to get his phone from the bedside table. "Do you need me to get Dr Winter for you? You did say you were feeling off."

Kenna shook her head. "It's nothing," she said before she suddenly got up and rushed to the bathroom to throw up.

"Perhaps you should stay in bed," Bash suggested.

Kenna sighed, sitting down with her back against the wall by the toilet. "Before you even suggest anything, I'm not pregnant."

"I know," he said. "We were careful and I obviously have to take precautions. Wouldn't want illegitimate children running about."

She watched him lean on the wall, arms crossed. "And I'm on the pill and still used other means of protection with your father... Dr Winter did say I had a concussion."

"And the chilli-mango sundae I dared you to eat last night wouldn't have helped things," Bash added.

Kenna got up and went to the sink, retrieving her new toothbrush. "I'm sorry. For staying, for taking up your time... You've probably got a million things to do."

"Now that I've retired more or less, my days are free. Mostly full of drinking and smoking and Bayard throwing my priceless vases about the house, but I've got nothing to do," Bash told her with a soft smile. "You can stay. That and I wouldn't want you to be hurt by my evil, jealous stepmother."

Kenna giggled before she put some toothpaste onto the toothbrush and began brushing her teeth. Her lips quirked upwards when she saw Bash staring at her through the mirror and she used her free hand to undo her robe.

"How long has it been since you've had a woman in your bathroom?" She asked him.

"I've never had a woman in my bathroom. Not even my home," Bash answered her. "I always used mutual grounds - hotels."

Kenna spat the toothpaste out. "I see," she said, starting to clean up and rinse her mouth.

She put the toothbrush back into the glass jar beside Bash's and turned to face him, smiling to herself when his eyes lowered down to her lace underwear. They hadn't done anything since she came, he and Leith slept downstairs, too drunk or high from whatever Leith was on and she had been taken to sleep in Bash's room. She wondered what it would be like to have Bash quaking under her touch again.

"Louise keeps her designerwear in the fifth guest bedroom," he said, swallowing deeply as his green eyes met her browns. "I know your style is more... risqué but it's all I have to offer in your size. We will have my people go to the chateau to collect your things and bring them here."

Kenna slowly walked over to him, placing her hands on his shoulders. He never moved nor uncrossed his arms. He merely watched on curiously as she looked up at him through her lashes.

"You're so kind, do you know that?" She asked softly, her eyes flittering to his lips.

"Kindness goes a long way," was his reply.

Kenna gave him a smile. "I still wonder how... You're a son of a king and nobody cares... How can they not? You're so loving, kind, humble..."

"No one wants a loving, kind, humble prince. They want someone who can give them a show, a museum spectacle," Bash said, almost angrily. "They forget that we're people, like them. Our lives do not need to be dictated by a crown and how we're linked to it."

"No, they don't," Kenna whispered.

"I mean, people starve and what does King Henry do? He allows the Prime Minister to build a multi-million euro restaurant for the rich," Bash said. "And then he refuses to gently press the Prime Minister to tax the rich. I wouldn't mind being taxed. If it meant children living in one-bedroom homes with their parents eating, I'd give them my house myself."

Kenna stared at him in disbelief. "You and Francis are so similar. How could you be so humble with parents like-"

"Henry and Catherine de Medici?" Bash finished for her. "Trust me, it was easy. They didn't raise us. Most certainly didn't raise me. I've lived here my whole life whilst my younger half-siblings were taken care of by governesses and governors."

"Did your mother raise you?"

Bash nodded. "And she told me to never take things for granted. Because it could all disappear with one," he clicked his fingers. "Snap."

Kenna gasped, nodding a little before she pressed her lips against his. His arms wrapped around her waist and she sighed wistfully into the kiss, her mind ignoring the sound of knocking on the door.

It seemed that Bash didn't care because he lifted her into his arms and entered his bedroom, placing her onto the bed gently. He peppered kisses on Kenna's collarbone which made her moan, moving down as his hand slipped behind her back to-

"Oh!"

He sprung apart from her and Kenna quickly wrapped her robe around her frame as Bash looked up to see the door close quickly. He got off Kenna and fixed his clothes before going over to the door and opening it.

Stepping out into the hallway, he closed the door behind him and faced Elliot.

"What is it?"

"You have visitors," he said, smirking. "I did knock. Multiple times."

Bash cleared his throat, hoping his flustered, red cheeks would go. "Uh, thank you. Who?"

"The usual suspect," Elliot said jokingly. "His Royal Highness himself, the Dauphin of France. He brought the Marquise and her friends with her."

"de Poitiers!"

Bash turned to see Leith walk up to him, his sunglasses on. "We're indoors, Bayard."

"I know, but everything is _so_ bright," Leith said, pouting. "Guess who's here?"

"Francis, I know," Bash said, leading them downstairs. "Did you clean up?"

Leith grinned. "And replaced the vase I broke this time. God, it is good to have money."

"Don't get too ahead of yourself," Bash replied. "You're nouveau riche."

Leith scowled. "Nouveau, vieux... They're both the same thing when you think about it!"

Bash chuckled, finally finding his unexpected visitors in his informal living room. "Brother, Marchioness, Ladies."

"Leith said you were busy," Francis said, giving him a hug.

Bash blushed. "Not at all," he replied, sending Leith a brief glare. "Just wondering what to do with all this free time on my hands. I'm sure my horses are wondering where the hell I am, not coming to visit them at five in the morning any longer."

Mary sat down on an armchair. "Kenna is here," she said bluntly.

"And how do you know that?"

"I may have sent Francis a video of some sort," Leith said. "To make him jealous that he wasn't here with us. I also sent it to the twins-"

"You're an idiot," Bash told Leith.

"I am, but I am your best idiot," Leith replied, grinning.

Bash turned to Mary, Lola and Greer. "She's fine-"

"She looked like she'd been run over!" Lola told him.

"It was a little incident," Bash said. "I happened to come across her and took her here. No point in worrying, she's fine."

Greer scrutinised him suspiciously. "He's lying."

"Pardonne-moi?"

"Mary, his eyes say it all," Greer said to her friend. "What really happened?"

Bash was about to speak but Kenna, herself, stopped him with, "Catherine happened."

Mary turned to Francis. "I told you! Your mother is behind everything."

"Wait, what do you mean?" Francis asked, looking between the two women.

"The awful newspaper article - I bet that was her way of sending us packing back to Scotland," Mary said.

Kenna nodded. "And now, she tried to kill me. First, she put laxatives in my tea and then full-on abducted me in broad daylight!"

"My mother isn't irrational," Francis told them. "Surely, you've wronged her?"

Mary shook her head. "All I've done is love you. I bet she doesn't want to lose her precious son," she said, turning to Kenna.

Kenna blushed furiously. "And I may have... slept with your father on the night of the engagement party-"

"What?!" Francis cried out. "What the-"

"It was a mistake and I swear, it meant nothing," Kenna quickly said, turning to Bash for help.

Bash sighed, turning to Francis. "Dad used her. It's been dealt with. Kenna will stay with me until everything blows over. The only people who know are in this room and obviously Catherine and Father but neither of them will speak about this."

Francis sat down in shock. "How long have you known, Bash?"

"I found out when she turned up here last night, " Bash admitted. "I wasn't happy about it. Try getting the idea of a woman who slept with you and your father on the same day around your head."

"Mum gets... Mum gets difficult," Francis said carefully. "I think it would be wise to remain here. Until after the wedding at least and then you can return to Scotland."

Kenna briefly eyed Bash before her eyes landed on Francis. "I might stay in France. But I promise no one will hear a peep out of me."

Francis eyed her suspiciously and it dawned on him when she looked over at Bash again. "I see. Just keep away from married men, please."

"Definitely," Kenna told him.

"Well, now we know that you're safe," Greer began. "Aren't you going to give us a lovely tour of your new boyfriend's house?"

Kenna gaped as Bash chuckled. "I will have you know... I haven't even had the pleasure of a personal tour."

"So you don't deny it?!" Greer asked, turning to Lola and Mary in amusement.

Kenna shook her head, going over to kiss Bash. "No, I don't," she said, staring into his eyes. "I mean if he'll have me?"

"I think we're far too gone already," Bash replied. "So, yes. Why not?"

"Wait, wait, wait," a voice said, making them all turn to it. "Kenna slept with King Henry? L-Like your _dad_? Dude..."

"Oh, for f-" Bash turned to Leith. "You were right here when we talked about it, literally seconds ago. How are you just processing this _now_?"

Leith shrugged, taking his glasses off. "I-I don't even know. I must have... been higher than I thought. It's still affecting me, dear Lord. Give me a minute, I'll get there."

"Somehow, he's still attractive," Greer whispered to Mary who laughed.

"Wait!" Leith said, making them all freeze as he put his hands on his cheeks in shock. "Queen Catherine tried to kill somebody?"

"Oh, God," Mary muttered. "Does he have an 'off' button?"

...

"So kind of you to join us," Catherine said that evening. She glowered at Mary who openly held Francis's hand on top of the dinner table.

Mary beamed. "I thought it was time to eat with the family," she said. "I will be one of you very soon."

"We can't wait," Claude said snippily, stabbing her potato with her fork.

Mary didn't waver under Claude's gaze. "Oh, Princess Claude, your pores are exposed."

Claude gasped and hurried out of the room, taking her compact mirror out of her pocket to inspect her face. It made Francis chuckle and Margaret grin as Catherine glared at Mary.

Elisabeth merely smirked to herself. "Marquise de Moray, are you excited for your honeymoon?"

"I am," Mary replied. "Francis is keeping it a surprise."

"It was the only thing one of us could plan," he said, turning to Mary lovingly. "I want it to be a surprise because I want you to know just how much I know _you_."

Mary sighed happily and was about to kiss him before she stopped. "Isn't he just the sweetest?" She asked, blushing furiously.

"I heard that your friend, the Comtessa was missing," Henry said, making Mary and Francis turn to him as Catherine gripped her fork and knife tightly. "Is she alright?"

"She is," Francis almost snapped. _No thanks to you._ He eyed his mother and rolled his eyes. "I believe her wellbeing is none of your concern." He blushed. "Your Majesty."

Henry looked at his wife before turning to Francis. "It is my concern. The Marquise de Moray and her friends are being taken care of in France. We must protect our guests and future relatives. Hospitality goes a long way, Francis."

Mary narrowed her eyes. _But your wife almost killed my friend_. "We can protect ourselves," she said. "We have a security detail for a reason."

"Where is she now?"

"In alternative residences," Francis replied. "She was becoming flustered with how many times she became lost in the chateau."

Henry nodded. "Understandable." He waved over Michel and whispered something into his ear.

Michel paused before nodding and leaving, giving Francis a quick glance. It was enough to realise that his father was looking for Kenna's whereabouts. To see if she would speak. And he wasn't the only one who noticed as Catherine placed her cutlery down and dabbed her mouth with her napkin.

"Mother," he said quickly. "Mary was asking about the wedding jewellery."

Catherine gasped happily. "She was?"

Mary frowned. "I was?"

"Yes," Francis said. "You should take her to the vaults in two days. Have her select herself. Since I was allowed to choose a honeymoon, allow her to choose our jewellery."

Catherine nodded. "Of course. Why not tomorrow?"

"I wish to treat Mary," Francis said. "We have reservations booked."

"Lovebirds," Elisabeth said, almost sickened. "Aren't you lucky, Marquise? You've struck gold with Francis."

Mary glanced down. _More like, he struck gold with me and my family's money_. But when they were married, they will find a way out of this situation that links her wealth with his. Perhaps calling James would not be a bad idea.

"Francis is wonderful. I wouldn't expect the world, but he would sure as hell give it to me," Mary replied, feeling him squeeze her hand. She beamed.

"May I be excused?" Francis asked. "I forgot that I told an old school friend of mine that we will be seeing each other tomorrow but I can't as I've made plans with Mary."

Catherine nodded. "Go ahead. It will give us ladies a chance to talk about the final details."

Mary nodded, feeling Francis kiss her cheek before he left the room. Although she knew where he was going, she couldn't have helped but feel annoyed that he'd now forced her to remain. She didn't mind, she could handle Catherine. It was Elisabeth she now had to look out for.

...

"He asked you to look for her, didn't he?" Francis asked Michel who turned in shock to face him.

Michel nodded. "Yes, Your Highness."

"Michel, you may work for my father, but you are loyal to _me_, right?"

"I am," Michel said, nodding.

"Was my mother truly behind the Comtessa's kidnapping?" Francis asked.

Michel nodded. "She was."

"And the negative newspaper article that affected my fiancée?" Francis added.

The security guard sighed heavily. "Yes."

"I see," Francis said. "Tell my father that Kenna is in a Parisian hotel. She will return for the wedding and leave for Scotland shortly after."

"You went to see the Baron," Michel stated. "She's there, isn't she?"

Francis shook his head. "I didn't see her. And I thought we didn't get involved in my brother's life."

"Very well, Dauphin," Michel replied. "I apologise-"

"Don't," Francis cut him off. "Just tell me everything my mother does which harms my image or the Marchioness's."

"I will."

"Good," Francis said. "Tomorrow, we'll go to Champ de Mars. We'll be taking the Metro and other forms of public transportation. See to a decent security measures plan and make it not obvious."

"And how many of you will there be?"

Francis smiled. "Mary, her three friends, Bash, Leith and the twins. And of course, me."

"Nine," Michel muttered. "Very well, Your Highness." He bowed and walked away, leaving Francis to return to dinner.

"All sorted?" His mother asked.

Francis nodded, sitting down in his seat and taking Mary's hand. "All sorted."

...

The next day, Mary stepped out onto the balcony of the Versailles chateau. It was a clear breath of fresh air, being away from Catherine, Henry and the whole drama in Fontainebleau. At least without their presence here, Bash, Leith, Remy and Julien could stay along with Kenna.

"We will be taking the Metro," Francis said as his makeup artists worked on his prosthetic disguise.

Mary turned to him, remaining outside with a smile on her face. "How exciting. I've never been on a train before."

"You're going to love it," Francis said.

"Are you sure you want to go with _that_ look?"

Francis grinned which received a tut from one of the artists. "What? You don't want to kiss me looking like an old man?"

"It would mortify people," she said, laughing. "But they're doing a great job. Now I can see what you look like as a silver fox."

"So, I'll still be attractive to you in say, forty years?"

Mary bit her lip. They'd be sixty then. "Yes, yes you will."

"So sweet," he said, pursing his lips.

She chuckled and came over to him, pressing her lips on his before backing away and heading to the door. "I'll go see where we're at with leaving."

"Don't be too long. I enjoyed admiring you from the balcony."

"Shut up," Mary replied, but she was grinning with a faint blush on her cheeks.

She headed down the hall and passed Michel who was speaking to Fabian and two of Bash's security team members. They gave her a bow and nod and she nodded back, continuing her way downstairs.

She could hear them before she saw them and she grinned when she entered, spotting Leith standing on top of the coffee table as he told the rest a story about him and Francis. She stood by the doors, arms crossed as she listened on in amusement.

"...face planted into the cake," Leith finished, shaking his head. "Still creeps its way into my nightmares until this day. That was worse than my experience in the Army!"

Mary laughed and her eyes landed on Bash who merely smiled a little. She guessed he didn't laugh much but when Kenna placed a hand on his knee, his eyes lit up and he kissed her neck.

"Speaking of birthdays, it's Henri Junior's thirteenth two days after your wedding," Leith said, jumping off the table. "Is he ready for his first sip of alcohol?"

"Bayard..." Bash said warningly, spotting Mary at the doors. "Come inside, sit and hopefully work out a way to turn this one 'off'."

Mary blushed, remembering what she said yesterday about Leith's 'off' button. "Francis is getting ready."

"Not surprised," Remy said. "He always took five hours to get ready-"

"More like ten," Julien said, making the women giggle. "I never knew it was such an effort to look so good as a prince."

Mary sat down beside Kenna and brought her feet up underneath her. "I just hope that when we're married, I'll have enough time to spend in the bathroom."

After a while of story filled conversations, Francis finally appeared. The women gasped as they looked him up and down. He was dressed in a five-piece tweed suit, brown brogues, a tweed hat and his face was wrinkly with white hairs poking everywhere, from his ears to his nose.

"Oh, God, you were serious when you said you needed a disguise," Greer said, getting up to inspect him with Kenna.

"Why are you feeling up my man?" Mary asked jokingly as she got up to wrap an arm around his waist. "He still looks handsome."

Francis grinned. "Thank you, darling."

"Didn't peg you for the older lover type, but okay," Kenna said, shrugging.

"That's more of your forté," Lola told Kenna, making the men gape.

Kenna giggled. "Trying to think of reasons why I love you, Lola."

"Shall we get going?" Francis asked, turning to see Michel enter. "We'll be taking the train from Gare de Versailles Chantiers."

"The... _train_?" Kenna asked.

"Yes," Michel said. "Do not worry. I have the best on the case and you will not be kidnapped again. Not on my watch."

Mary gave the guard a nod. "Thank you for putting precautions into place-"

"I'm not worried about being kidnapped again," Kenna said. "I've never taken the train before. None of us has."

"It's interesting," Greer said carefully. "Will there be refreshments and a suitable bathroom?"

Remy turned to her. "It's a train. Not a Versace Hotel."

"And that means...?"

"Oh, I see..." Leith said. "These women are those type of women."

The men shared a nod which made Mary and her friends very confused. She didn't know what that meant. Had their past female friends been open to travel by public transport? Weren't they supposed to be taking private transport because they were with a _prince_ or two?

"What type of women?" Lola asked, turning to Remy accusingly.

"The ones who look down on the ways of the normal people," Julien told him. "Don't worry, our public services are decent. Mostly."

Leith grinned. "Time to teach you, ladies," he began, pointing at them. "How to live like normal people."

...

"...and here is the tour Eiffel or Eiffel Tower," Francis said, gesturing to the landmark in front of them. "I've booked a reservation at Le Jules Verne during non-eating hours. I figured we'd like to eat in peace."

"And not be asked why we have an elderly man with us?" Mary teased him. She wanted nothing more than to hold him, her arm around his waist but they all kept their distances from each other. They could be spotted and approached at any time.

Francis chuckled. "True," he said. "But to admire the views from every angle."

"Like the Seine?" Greer asked. "Only Kenna has had the pleasure of visiting it."

"We will go there afterwards," Francis promised. "And yes, cheesy photos are a must."

Mary grinned and followed him towards the entrance where the doors were opened for them.

"Your Highness," the host said, bowing low. "Your table is ready for you and your guests."

"Thank you," Francis said much to Mary's surprise. Had Francis been here in different disguises frequently?

When they got to their table, it was Lola who brought the subject up, "I am guessing that they know a lot of your disguises?"

Francis grinned cheekily. "Indeed," he replied. "The employees enjoy this one in particular. I call him _Monsieur Blanc_. He's old, widowed, gives tours, has ten grandchildren and needs the toilet a lot so understandably, the restaurant lets him inside as he offers them patrons in return."

"You give your disguises backgrounds?" Greer asked, slightly intrigued.

"I do," Francis said. "Simon Anjou is his grandson through his eldest daughter."

"Of course, he is," Mary said, giggling.

Francis laughed. "No, there's no connection. All of my disguises are people of their own. Depends on what I'm feeling."

Leith nodded. "We once went to a pub with Seigneur Cœur, our 'former' military commander. Now, that night was _wild_."

"Lord Heart?" Mary asked curiously.

"Yes, because he killed his enemies with a sword through the heart," Julien jokingly said.

"That and he was dumped fifteen times," Francis said. "He never married and led a lonely life filled with drinking with his younger friends, telling old stories of their war days."

"You never went to war," Bash said quietly, his eyes meeting his brother's mischievous blue ones.

"No, but Seigneur Cœur did. Remember?"

Kenna turned to Bash. "Remy, Julien and Leith always talk about your time in the Army, why don't you?"

"I don't talk about a lot of things," Bash replied. "Not everything is important to talk about."

"Keep your secrets," Kenna said, looking away to see the chef walk up to their table.

He greeted Francis but Francis stopped him from bowing, quickly taking the chef into a tight hug.

"Duke de Anjou... It is wonderful to see you again and you've brought your blushing bride-"

"You mean, I've brought the Dauphin's blushing bride," Francis said, tapping his nose.

Chef Anton nodded in understanding, grinning. "Any dietary requirements?"

"None at all," Mary answered for them. "I am sure you will impress us. Francis speaks nothing but highly of the food served here."

"It is a shame he couldn't make it," Anton replied, giving Francis a smirk. "Very well, my waiters will serve you your beverage of choice, Mesdames et Messieurs."

He left them and Francis sat back down.

"Who else have you got to make our day special?" Mary asked him coyly. "Will we have a performance from Adele or Beyoncé?"

Francis chuckled. "Now, that would be telling."

...

"Where is Monsieur Blanc taking us now?" Mary asked, stuffing her hands into her coat pockets. It was cold, the weather was slightly lukewarm but she felt cold due to the lack of warmth from Francis.

Oh, how her fingers itched to touch him.

They made their way to the River Seine and got onto a private boat. It was more of a yacht, but incredibly small and able to fit all nine people comfortably. It was quite luxurious and even had a female singer waiting on the deck, starting to sing an opera piece in French.

Mary smiled as the singer gave her a wink, never breaking out of the song. She sat down on a seat and twisted her body so she could see the view from there. The fresh air was lovely now and Francis sat beside her, his hand on hers that laid on the soft material of the leather seat.

"We're less exposed now," he told her, kissing her cheek. "No one can clearly see who we are..." He kissed her lips and she smiled against his lips. "I love you."

"I love you too," she whispered. "Even as Monsieur Blanc."

He chuckled and pulled away as the yacht set off on the Seine.

"..._je ne sais, ne sais, ne sais pas pourquoi. C'est comme ça, la Seine et moi.._"

Mary turned to the singer. "She's singing that song-"

"From A Monster in Paris!" Lola said. "You love that song."

Mary turned back to Francis. "You remembered?"

"I remember us watching it when it came out before you left for Scotland," he told her. "You couldn't stop singing that song, even after the movie ended."

Mary grinned, kissing him. "Such a gentleman. Remembering my favourite animated film."

"Well, it's based on your favourite opera of all time," Francis said. "Le Fantôme de l'Opéra."

"Be careful, Francis," she said lowly, so only he could hear. "Otherwise I'll take you down to that bedroom and have my way with you."

Francis started to laugh and he got up when the singer finished, dismissing her with a large tip. He took her spot and began to direct everyone's gazes to the places they passed.

"Île de la Cité, and east of it, is the beautiful Notre-Dame," Francis announced. "Yes, the Hunchback of Notre Dame was inspired by it. I hope Victor Hugo is one of our favourite novelists?"

"He is," Greer affirmed. "Before we came to France, we've been brushing up on our French knowledge. I've become obsessed with French work, even taking to reading them in French!"

"Now, isn't that just merveilleux?" Leith asked, giving her a smile which made her blush.

Further down, Francis said, "And the Louvre where the world's largest museum resides, home to the Mona Lisa."

"Can we visit it?" Kenna asked.

"Not right now," Francis said. "But I do believe that Bash will love to take you one day."

"Can you?" Kenna asked him, turning to face him. "Oh, please!"

Bash nodded. "I will see what I can do."

Kenna's eyes sparkled as she said, "France might be my new favourite country."

Francis frowned a little at the next sight. "Uh and this is-"

"Ornamental Tuileries Gardens," Kenna cut him off. "By your mother dearest."

Francis blushed. "Yes," he replied. "Giant playground for us Parisians."

"You're not Parisian," Bash told him, in an attempt to lighten the situation. "I am."

"Yes, and would you like to take over? My back isn't how it used to be," Francis replied jokingly.

"Sit down, Blanc," Bash said, getting up and taking his place.

Francis revelled in it, letting Mary lie on his chest as she closed her eyes and enjoyed the ride. "Tired?"

"The food was too much," she mumbled happily. "Five out five."

"The day's not over yet, love," he replied.

Bash pointed to his right. "If you'd all kindly turn and see the Grand Palais and Petit Palais..."

...

It was evening by the time they returned to the Versailles chateau and Mary was surprised to see that the day was _still_ not over. She entered and saw that the place was transformed into a 1920s theme.

"What is this?" Mary asked in surprise as the butlers presented them with large, gold boxes wrapped with black bows.

Francis shrugged. "I don't exactly know."

"You didn't think that today was over did you?" Bash asked, taking his box. "Be down in ten."

He took Kenna's hand just as she got her own box and led her upstairs. Mary turned to Francis and grinned, taking her own box from a butler.

"I'm guessing this is one of Bash's wonderfully planned parties?"

"You're in for a treat," Julien said. "La nuit n'est pas encore finie."

Mary nodded, excited as Francis led her to his rooms here. They placed their boxes on his bed and opened them. Inside hers was a Coco Chanel gold frills dress.

"It's so beautiful..."

"Well, Mary," Francis said, lifting his suit from his box. "Get ready for your first _proper_ party."


	5. Drama In The Roaring 20s

**Replies to reviews:**

**Guest (1) [chapter 3]: Thank you! And those ideas sound great, thanks! **

**BlerBlerBler [chapter 3]: Awh, I'm glad you love that! They do not necessarily have to grow up quickly, so I'm making them as fluffy as possible since they're in their early twenties and deserve fun and cuteness. Yes, Catherine had to let out her anger on Kenna as Henry is the king and she could be reprimanded. Not to say that she can't openly make subtle digs or glares at him, but anything that puts their family in a bad light, she will retaliate. For now, the situation is settled but Catherine has certainly not forgotten about it.**

**Guest (2) [chapter 4]: Oh, my goodness it will be the 50th chapter! Yes, ageing them up a bit will do it.**

**BlerBlerBler [chapter 4]: Thanks so much xx! I hope to do many Francis in disguise scenes and maybe, Mary could join in if they want some private time away from their royal lives. **

**elder 441 [chapter 4]: Thank you! Hope you enjoy it.**

**Thanks for the birthday well wishes! The reason I was writing a party scene is that my friends have told me that I'll be having a 'Roaring 20s' themed birthday party. They had to tell me because my nosey self couldn't stop bothering them about what we were going to do for my birthday week. We've also booked a spa with our mums so depending on wifi, I will see about chapters. ATEOTB is still in the works, but thank you for your suggestions! I guess I have a little bit of writer's block, but I do have a plan. One of you suggested seeing a couple of years down the line and yes, you're right! I will not go too much into the future, but as I've ended that so far on the Christmas season, it makes sense to then go into the future. So that means more family moments with the boys, in particular, their personalities coming into play. **

****For this story, enjoy the chapter! As it's my birthday, I got really inspired and whipped this up for you guys as a birthday present for myself to you, haha. ****

****After a nice day, everyone is brought back to Earth with a crash landing...****

* * *

"Did Bash seriously think you ladies would take ten minutes to get dressed?" Francis asked as he watched the makeup artists work their magic on Mary. "You look stunning."

"Thank you," she replied happily. "How wild do these parties get?"

Francis shrugged. "Depends on how many people are there. Once had a Jurassic themed party that went on for four days straight. No one slept a proper wink during that week."

"God," Mary muttered. "I'm not that much of a party animal."

"Don't worry," Francis told her. "This won't be too over the top."

Mary smiled, standing up when her makeup was done. She went into the wardrobe and got dressed in her new dress before going over to the box to take out her accessories. It seemed that everything was chosen, down to the very last shoe.

"Does Bash always meticulously plan these parties?" She called out to Francis.

"Yes," Francis said. "He uses the money from his winnings to buy everyone all they need to attend."

"How does he know our sizes?"

"That's the thing about Bash. He just knows," Francis said. "That and he asked the royal dressmakers for your sizes. He's got a rapport with them, the ladies love him."

Mary giggled. "I'm sure they do. Such a charmer, you both are!"

She stepped back into the bedroom and twirled, showing off her new look as she placed her golden gloved hands under her chin in a pose.

"Well?"

Francis's eyes widened as he took her in. From her strappy heels to her sparkling engagement ring over her gloved fingers. "You look..."

"Cat got your tongue?"

"Cat, mouse and everything else," he breathed out, taking a step towards her.

She stepped back. "No, Francis," she said, seeing his eyes darken in lust. "We have time for that later."

"My love, you do not know how much it is taking me to restrain myself right now," he said, taking another step to her.

Mary chuckled, blushing furiously. "Darling, we have a party to attend."

She led the way out, using a hand to keep him away from her. She laughed when she failed, his arms wrapping around her waist as her back hit his chest and his chin snuggled into the crook of her neck, inhaling her.

"Coco Chanel was a splendid choice," he said huskily.

"You should thank your brother for that," she replied just as breathlessly. "Today has been one of the best days of my life."

Francis smiled, planting a gentle kiss on her cheek. "I am truly happy that you're finally here."

"And I won't ever leave your side willingly," she told him. "September 17th marks the day we will be inseparable for life."

"I can't wait."

She turned in his arms and kissed him before leaving his grip and heading downstairs. She admired the decorations, collecting a cocktail glass from a butler who held a tray.

Mary sipped from the straw, continuing to enter the main hall space in awe. Her eyes widened and she gasped at the sparkle and lights, a smile on her face as she saw another singer perform songs from The Great Gatsby, another of her favourites.

"Marquise!" Remy called her over. "Francis."

The couple walked to the white leather, round sofa and sat down beside Remy and Lola. They were the only other couple there.

"Where's the host himself?"

"He likes his dramatic entrances," Remy said. "Like Jay Gatsby."

"I do love a themed party," Lola told them. "I'm glad I was invited!"

Francis beamed. "You won't be unimpressed, I promise you."

Remy waved over a bartender. "Martini, dry."

"Why don't you order one for me?" Lola asked him.

Remy smirked. "Get her a French Martini."

"A bit _basic_."

"Oh, we French _never_ do things 'basic'," Remy told her much to the other couple's amusement as the bartender walked off.

Francis placed his drink on the coffee table. "Want to dance, Mary?"

"Where?" She asked with a slight laugh.

"If you'd look over the sofa, you'd see a nice stage. Perfect for the guest of honour. _You_," he replied, standing up and offering her his hand.

Mary grinned and placed her left hand in his right, letting him take her over to the stage where he began to twirl her before his hand finally rested on the small of her back.

"I want this day to last forever," Mary whispered, staring into his blue eyes. "I'm just glad that you're not still wearing that disguise."

Francis grinned. "Didn't like kissing Monsieur Blanc, did you?"

Mary snorted and she burst into giggles, burying her face into his shoulder. "God, you always make me sound so unladylike, it's embarrassing!"

Francis smiled softly, closing his eyes. "_'There is nothing more rare, nor more beautiful, than a woman being unapologetically herself; comfortable in her perfect imperfection. To me, that is the true essence of beauty.'_," he said. "Steve Maraboli."

"Who?"

"My father's former motivational speaker," Francis said. "In short, I want you to be able to be yourself with me. Just as you are with your friends, don't be afraid of the little things."

Mary pulled back and studied him. "Like farting and burping?"

"Everyone's human, my love," he said.

She giggled, nodding. "Okay," she replied. "Thank you." She rested her forehead against his as they swayed to the music. "I promise to share with you all the little things, including farting and burping."

He laughed. "I promise to do the same."

Mary closed her eyes and took in the moment. Three years of being apart and already, the days they spent together felt like a lifetime. It was well into the night now and she never wanted to let go.

A flash of light landed on them and they turned to see Kenna snapping a photo of them. She chuckled when they blushed and looked away from her and her camera.

"Bash! Look how beautiful they look together," Kenna said, going over to show him the picture she took.

"In their own little world," Bash said, smirking at the Dauphin and Marchioness. "Has everyone got drinks? I don't want a glass empty."

Mary and Francis went to get their drinks, sitting down on the sofa and sharing a sweet kiss. Mary let Francis take a sip of her drink and made a face when she had a sip of his.

"God, that's... too olivey," she said.

"It is a Dirty Martini for a reason," Francis replied with a chuckle.

"The ladies can enjoy the champagne tower," Bash said, taking his own drink from a butler. "And of course, if you're peckish, hors-d'œuvres are being served."

The music switched and became more upbeat jazz songs. The singer was relieved, her face lighting up as she sang happily for the gathering. It made Mary surprised and she swayed side to side on her seat in awe.

Leith was the last to arrive and he left his bowtie undone, sending Greer a grin. "Looking beautiful, Blondie."

"Keep trying, _Blondie_," Greer replied, smiling as she blushed.

Leith gave her a wink and turned to Bash. "Where's the casino table?"

"That soon?" Bash asked, checking his watch. "Normally, you're six drinks in before you bet everything away."

"This is my _seventh_ drink," Leith said, going over to the dealer and casino table. "I had two upstairs as I was getting dressed and we shouldn't forget the four I had at the restaurant."

Francis laughed, moving his lips to Mary's ear. "Want to be my good luck charm?"

She turned to him. "How about _you_ be _mine_?"

He raised an eyebrow. "You play poker?"

"I've dabbled," Mary replied, getting up with her drink. "Sebastian, I am in."

Bash raised his eyebrows, turning to his brother. "And you?"

"Will be her good luck charm," Francis said, getting up as well and finishing his drink. He placed the glass down and put his hand on the small of Mary's back and led her to the table.

Pulling a seat back, she sat down and he pushed it in, placing his hands on her shoulders.

Remy and Julien joined the table and Lola and Greer stood behind them, silently cheering Mary on before it had even begun.

"We should play Blackjack after," Kenna said, sitting beside Leith as Bash took the seat to her right. "Count me in."

"How high are the stakes?" Leith asked, waving the bartender over. "Get me a drink, please. Oh and one for the Dauphin."

The bartender nodded and turned to the rest. "Any more requests?

"A mint julep," Kenna said, bringing her chips over to her body as everyone else did the same.

Mary shook a shaky breath. "Uh, a Brandy, please. I want to focus on this."

After receiving orders, the bartender left and Mary counted her chips, listening to instructions from Francis. She turned her head and kissed him to silence him, giving him a look that she had this.

"Do not underestimate me," she whispered, kissing him again.

Francis raised his hands in defence. "Show us what you've got, Marquise."

"Baron, place your bet," the dealer said.

Bash began the bets and when he was done, the dealer continued. It was very thrilling as it went on, Mary mentally checking everyone's reactions. It made her smile to herself as she decided to raise the bet when it was her turn again.

"I fold," Remy sighed, placing his cards down and drinking from his glass.

Julien smirked. "I call your bet, Marquise."

"Feeling confident?" Bash asked Julien.

"Have I ever lost?" Julien retorted.

"Last round," the dealer announced.

Bash scanned his cards. "Fold."

"Raise," Kenna said, turning to Mary. "Think you can beat Julien, Leith and me?"

Mary grinned. "Just wait, Countess," she replied.

"Ooh," Leith said, smirking. "I sense a catfight. I will call your bet, Comtessa."

"So will I," Mary said confidently, pushing her chips to the rest.

Julien decided to call and Mary turned to Francis with a smile. He pressed a kiss on the top of her head and the dealer asked the remaining people to reveal their cards.

Kenna was first and she proudly laid out a straight flush. "Oh boy, I'd like to see one of you lot beating that."

Mary smiled a little when she revealed her own cards. "Well, I just did."

Kenna gasped. "What? _How_?"

"A Royal Flush for a future princess," Greer said proudly. "Good one, Mary!"

"I guess that puts my full house to shame," Leith said with a sad sigh. But his spirits were lifted up with another drink. "Keep them coming."

"I had a boring old straight," Julien said, shrugging. "Well, that was fun."

Kenna nodded. "Let's play Blackjack now!"

Mary stood from the table after collecting her winnings. She hadn't even known they were playing with real money. "Are you sure, Bash? We could just play a friendly game, you didn't need to give me the betting chips."

"You're a guest," Bash told her. "Enjoy the money."

"A gentleman always pays the for his guests' bets," Remy told her. "Here I'll be, paying him back every penny after we're done."

Mary smiled as Francis took her seat for the next card game. "I'm off to cash this in. All proceeds go to charity."

"As I intended," Bash said, looking up at her. "I always have charity representatives attend my parties. As it's smaller than usual, you'll have to settle for my secretary to organise things."

"Oh," Mary said, surprised. "Well, thank you. It was really fun. I'll be back to watch."

As they started a game of Blackjack, Mary made her way out of the room towards the downstairs study. The people inside were the banker, their secretaries with one security guard.

They stopped talking when they saw her and she walked over to the banker, presenting her chips.

"I'd like to cash this in," she said, eyeing the woman Bash was talking about. "To three charities, if you don't mind helping me with that?"

The woman nodded and bowed her head to Mary, collecting the briefcase from the banker when he was done. "Wise choice, Ma'am."

"Oh and take a grand out of it and treat yourselves," she told them before leaving the room. It wasn't a bribe per se, but she needed to gain the trust of the French employees. It seemed that they were still off with her.

She returned in time to see Francis check his cards and purse his lips in thought. "Hit me," he said, the dealer placing a card beside the other two. Francis winced. "Fuck."

"Better luck next time," Remy said teasingly. "Not that much of a risk to increase your fifteen value. But it became one when it gave out a ten." He turned to the dealer. "I'll stand, kind sir."

Julien scanned his cards briefly. "Hit me." He smirked when he got a good value. "Stand."

"All bets are done?" The dealer asked.

"Oui," Bash said for them all.

The dealer turned over his card and revealed he had a value of twenty-two. Bash only had twenty, Kenna had twenty-one on the dot, Leith with seventeen and Remy and Julien with nineteen and twenty respectively.

Kenna grinned. "Why, who would have thought I'd win?" She asked, collecting her winnings. "One more round?"

"How about Lola and Greer join us?" Julien suggested, standing up. "I am getting restless. I need a good walk."

Greer took his seat as Lola sat on Remy's other side.

"I will call the banker for you," Julien told the women.

By the end of the next two rounds, Kenna had won two times and Francis won the last. Being the kind prince he was, Francis split his winnings with everyone else, telling them to choose a charity of their choice.

Mary was the first one to yawn, realising that the time was now past three in the morning. She rested her head against Francis's shoulder and swayed, giggling as her last drink of the night began to take its effects on her.

"We should head to bed," Francis suggested.

Mary shook her head. "One more dance!" She said, pulling him up onto the coffee table.

Francis wrapped his arms around her waist as her arms wrapped around his neck. "I love you so much."

Mary grinned. "I love you so much too," she said, kissing him.

When she laid the side of her head on his chest, she saw Remy and Lola lean in closer. She smiled softly when they kissed, pulling away with pink stained ears and happy smiles on their faces. If Bash intended for this night to take a romantic turn, he was successful because Leith and Greer were waltzing around the room, the male blonde almost knocking down priceless vases and statues as they spun in circles. Julien was snoring on the sofa and Bash himself was standing outside in the cold air with a drink in his hand.

She searched for Kenna and found her best friend playing a soft melody on the grand piano. Mary closed her eyes, listening to the piano work its magic. It was a while and she found herself opening her eyes to find herself in Francis's bed.

"I fell asleep?"

"Yes," Francis said, brushing her hair from her eyes. "It was a dead giveaway, you becoming limp in my arms and snoring."

"I do not snore," Mary said.

"You do," Francis said. "And it's music to my ears."

Mary sighed happily. "What time is it?"

"Only five."

"Thank you."

"For what?"

Mary's eyes watered. "For being in my life and accepting me."

"You don't need to thank me for that," Francis breathed out. "You're the air that I breathe."

In that second, he had her a blubbering mess and he chuckled, hugging her tightly as she cursed him for making her cry. He then told her that she was an emotional drunk to which she cried even more to, laughing in between her sobs.

"Never leave me," she begged him.

"God, no. I love you too much to ever leave your side again," Francis whispered into the darkness.

...

Kenna woke up and turned to find the other side of the bed empty and laid. She sighed and sat up, trying to piece together the rest of the night. It drove her crazy. Bash would be so willing to kiss her and make her feel lovely and gooey inside but he would refuse to sleep with her, even right beside her.

Or that's what she thought.

"You're awake," he said from the corner of the room.

She turned to look at him in surprise, watching as he ate his breakfast and watched her stretch. "I am," she stated. "Did we...?"

"No," he said.

"Why not?" She asked bluntly.

Bash shrugged. "I want to wait."

"Wait for what?"

"Until marriage."

Kenna scoffed. "Bash, we all know you're _not_ a virgin. What marriage nonsense is this?"

"I did mean it when I said I wanted to get married," Bash told her, leaning back in his seat.

"What are we then?"

"You're my girlfriend."

"Should I expect a ring?"

"If it's only to have sex with me, don't get your hopes up," Bash replied.

Kenna was stung by his words. "I really like you, Bash."

"I've never been in love, I don't know what it feels like nor do I think I'll feel it anytime soon," Bash said honestly. "But I do like you and... I'd like to get to know you better. Also not see you as the woman who slept with my father."

"I see," she said quietly.

"Look, I've learnt my lesson when it comes to relationships," he began. "I do not want to jump into something and have it fail horribly. I'm smarter than that. I want something real."

Kenna glanced down at her hands, starting to pick her nails. "Like lovey-dovey Francis and Mary?"

"Can you blame me? I grew up with my parents separated. Neither really taught me about love," Bash replied. "I can bet you were showered with love and attention from your parents and that they never argued in front of you or showed you anything but love and adoration for each other in front of you."

"You're right," Kenna said. "Are you one of those ones who give others advice but can't indulge in it yourself?"

Bash smirked a little. "Ask L.D. Daniels."

"Who?"

"A favourite author of mine who writes self-help books on love and how to understand the female mind," he replied. "You should read his stuff, he's good."

Kenna looked up at him, giving him a pointed look. "Why doesn't he recite a few pages himself, right now?"

"_Love is like music. You can get sweet music or sad music. Either way, love hurts_," he said softly. "From 'The Obscurity Of Love'."

"Do you think love is important in a marriage?"

Bash scoffed lightly. "Have you met my father and his current spouse?"

"I see," Kenna whispered. "What if I said that I love you?"

"Then, we could get to know each other," he replied. "But just... save it. I don't wait to hear that you love me. We've known each other for all of five minutes."

Kenna frowned. "Fine," she snapped, getting out of the bed. "I will be looking for a hotel to stay in until after the wedding. Then, I'll go back to Scotland and you can take whatever this is as slow as you want."

Bash sighed. "I don't know what you want me to-"

"I don't understand," Kenna began, cutting him off angrily and confused. "You say all these things, you get into my head and make me fall for you. You care about status and you..." Tears sprung to her eyes and she pressed her hands on her eyes to stop her tears. "All I know is that I know myself and I've made my bed and I lie in it. That and I see something with _us_."

Bash got up from his seat and brought her into his arms. He kissed her hard and she didn't respond. Sighing against her lips he cupped her cheeks and leant back a little bit.

"I don't want you to get hurt," he whispered.

"I want to be hurt," Kenna replied lightly. "You tell me nothing-"

"We're still new to each other-"

"So?"

Bash smiled wryly. "Are you sure?"

Kenna nodded, looking up at him. "Please," she begged him softly. "We were almost there... We can be intimate and get to know each other. We can have something just as special as Mary and Francis."

"We can't tell anyone else about us, Kenna," he told her. "Not even my father. You're mine."

She gasped. That was all she wanted to hear. She pressed her lips against his hungrily and he picked her up. She wrapped her legs around his waist, their lips never breaking apart as he put her down gently onto the bed.

Just as he slipped her nightie off, there was a knock on the door and they both cursed, Kenna smacking him repeatedly as he shifted off her to get off the bed and go to the door.

"Every fucking time," she mumbled, covering her body with the duvet. "Like, they _know_ we're trying to get somewhere and they decide to disturb us!"

Bash laughed, opening the door a little to see who was behind it. "Oui?" He asked Michel.

Michel sighed and handed Bash a newspaper. "The Dauphin was busy," he explained, watching Bash look down at the newspaper. "Two headlines. Neither are good."

Bash's heart sank when he stared at the first one.

_'Scottish Slut's Affair With King'_

"His Highness told me to tell him if his mother did anything to ruin his or the Marquise's images. But she went and ruined the King's instead," Michel told him. "As well as Mary's."

Bash turned the page and read, "_'Scottish Marquise Gets Frisky With The Elderly'_."

"What do you want me to do?"

"Find Francis," Bash said quietly. "Has it already been released?"

Michel nodded sadly. "Dispatched across the nation. I bet people are already using it for their pets' toilet substitutes. If they didn't hate the Scottish women already, they hate them more."

"What I don't understand is that Catherine knows that Mary is half-French and she could be a great addition to the Royal Family, modernising it for the better," Bash said, angrily. "And as for tarnishing her own husband's name... She's despicable and we need to accept that she is going too far just to spite him."

Michel was about to take the newspaper but Bash stopped him. "You want to read it to the Comtessa?"

"Give Francis another copy. We'll be down to discuss it when he's ready."

Bash returned to his room and found Kenna waiting, fully unclothed as she gave him an alluring look. He sighed and she frowned, getting under the duvet and covering her face.

"A newspaper," she mumbled. "Bad news?"

"Your name wasn't mentioned."

"But my face clearly was shown," she said. "Wasn't it?"

"Yes."

"It won't be long until... Until they find out who I am and... well, who knows what will happen-"

"I won't let anything happen to you," Bash promised her. "We can fix it."

"We can't," Kenna whispered, turning to him. "It's over, Bash. Catherine's won. And it's probably some petty, little argument she had with Henry that forced her hand. She's a volcano, waiting to erupt and she did alright."

Bash got onto the bed and brought her to his chest as she sobbed. "It's fine."

"It's not!"

"I will sort things out. I have people-"

"It doesn't even matter..." She told him, pulling away and grabbing the newspaper from his hand. "Look." She pointed at the picture that showed Henry clearly feeling her up that night before she followed him. "I wanted it."

She quickly read the article and shook her head. There was nothing she could do. All she had to do was go home and be quiet.

"Catherine altered the picture from the FEGA grounds," Bash stated. "Many people, who know who I am, tell me that I look like my father. Add more hair and get rid of the beard and we're a perfect fit. You and me, it can be that."

Kenna studied his eyes. "And what would we say after that?"

"That you're my fiancée. That we didn't want to say anything because we didn't want to overshadow Francis and Mary. That I'm not Laurent Avoné or L.D. Daniels but Sebastien de Poitiers, the eldest son of King Henry VI."

"You can't do that," Kenna whispered. "You can't risk your true identity for me. I thought you loved the peace, the normal life you have-"

Bash laughed wryly. "What's normal about my life?"

Kenna smiled a little. "True."

"I will suggest it to Francis, do damage control and we can see what we'll do about Mary's situation. We thought we were scotfree, that the Seine was private enough for them to be together but someone is obviously spying on us."

Kenna nodded. "They are. Let me get dressed and we'll talk this out properly."

...

"We can't just confront her," Francis said to everyone. "But we can reverse the narrative. It just means I'll have to give up Monsieur Blanc, he will be missed and Bash will have to make a formal statement with the King's permission."

Mary nodded, crossing her arms. "Your mother has painted Kenna and me out as whores! She should get told off at least."

"Something tells me that my father won't," Bash said bitterly. "Perhaps she orchestrated this whole thing. Why not ruin my life while she's at it? She never liked the fact that I existed and knowing what she knows about Kenna and me, she would know that I'd do anything for her."

Kenna blushed. "And I thank you, but I seriously can't let you do that."

"Why?" Lola asked. "This way, you can be together and be happy."

Kenna smiled sadly. "Before today, Bash was happy with the quiet life. I can't let him be forced into this. I'm going back to Scotland and Mary, you will need to find an alternative maid of honour."

Mary pinched the bridge of her nose, tears springing to her eyes. "No."

"What?" Greer said. "If Kenna wants to leave-"

"No, you can't quit because there won't be a wedding," Mary said, turning to face Francis. "I'm sorry, but I don't think I can deal with this. The whole drama and most of all, your mother. This has gone _too far_. She's won, the Scots are going."

She turned around and left the room with Francis calling after her.

"What just happened?" Leith asked, eyes wide.


	6. Goodbyes Are Not Forever

**Replies to reviews:**

**elder441 [chapter 5]: We do sort of find out ;) And thank you! x**

**BlerBlerBler [chapter 5]: There won't be a confrontation between mother and son just yet but it is brewing.**

****I am currently at the spa. Wi-fi is surprisingly quick. I've pre-written chapters after this but it is a question of when to post them since I'll be at the spa until Thursday, and my party is on Friday. The weekend will be busy as university begins again next week so we will see. But I won't let you suffer for too long! ATEOTB will be updated by Thursday, definitely though or perhaps before.****

* * *

"The press is having a jour d'entraînement!" Henry cried out, slamming the newspaper onto his desk and glancing over at Narcisse. "What are you doing about it?"

Narcisse rubbed his head in frustration. "I've not sat down since we had the newspapers arrive," he said. "I am doing everything I can, Sir."

Henry sighed heavily. "I know you are. You're my right-hand man, you won't let me down."

"The General is here."

"I see," Henry said, standing up. "Where is he?"

"With his sister, Sir," Narcisse replied.

"Call-"

"My daughter has just called me to say that she wants to stop the wedding," the Duchess of Guise said, storming into the study with her brother behind her. "And it is because all the people of France are judgemental and I am very glad I left for Scotland when I had the chance presented to me."

"Marie..." Henry said softly. "I have the best people on the case. Trust me, the wedding will go on. Our children love each other too much to-"

Marie began to laugh incredulously. "All we have had are endless of negative reports and slander to our name!"

"I know these articles are false-"

"Including the one with my step-niece?" Marie snapped.

Henry paused. "I do not have to answer to that-"

"Did you sleep with Mckenna, Henry?"

"Look, we are old friends, Marie," Henry said, coming to stand in front of her. "We both loved James dearly, we both want this marriage and union between our families to happen. I will not let _anything_ get in the way of that. Of making sure that France has a chance to prosper and enter the modern world."

Marie faltered. "Christian-"

"Yes, sister?" The man said, coming to stand beside his sister.

"Fetch my daughter. Call the jet," Marie said quietly. "We're leaving."

Henry shook his head. "I strongly advise you to remain-"

"It is over, Henry," Marie told him. "Once my daughter makes her mind up, it is set and impossible to change. It does not help that your beloved wife treats her like dirt. I will not let my daughter, niece nor their friends be humiliated like this."

There was a knock on the door and Henry told the person to enter. He was surprised to see his sons, both just as angry and confused about the situation as him.

With a sigh, he turned to Marie, "Duchess, General de Guise, if you would excuse me?"

Marie nodded once and left with her older brother trailing behind. The General stopped, looked Francis in the eye and gave him a nod and a smile.

"Fight for her, boy," he whispered into the blonde's ear before leaving.

"You too, Stephane," Henry added, going back to his seat.

Narcisse tutted and collected his files before heading to the door. He gave Francis a reassuring smile and a curt nod to Bash before he left and closed the door behind him.

"Your Majesty," Bash said, slightly mockingly. "We know you know who did this."

Henry looked up at them. "And what do you want me to do? Catherine is my wife-"

"Who has just destroyed your reputation," Bash told him. "Father, I have a solution."

Henry rested his chin on his fists and nodded. "Go ahead."

"You said that I should get married," Bash stated.

"I did. I've found suitable matches-"

"I have found my own fiancée," Bash cut him off. "Mckenna."

Henry raised his eyebrows. "I see."

"Father, this can help fix the first article. About your _supposed_ infidelity," Francis added. "Bash has always been told that he looks more like you than I do. Doctor the pictures and have a press conference explaining the circumstances about Bash and Kenna's blossoming relationship."

Henry closed his eyes. "You do both know what this means, do you not?"

"I do," Bash whispered.

"We can't turn back," Henry said, opening his eyes and looking at his eldest. "Every false name you've given will be null and void and people will know who you really are. Your neighbours, your colleagues at the FEGA, the whole world."

Bash nodded. "I'm ready."

Henry studied him for a while. They remained as they were in silence, Henry having a mental conversation with himself about their predicament. Instead of one wedding, he'd have to bless two and a smile graced his lips.

"I regret a lot of things," Henry finally said. "Losing love was one of them."

"What do you say?"

"I say, go and speak to Narcisse whilst your brother and I talk," Henry told Bash.

Bash smiled in relief and turned to leave but he stopped. "Sometimes I thank God that I was never involved in this family on a wider volume. But I can't deny you all the same."

"I love you, Sebastien," Henry said softly. "And I apologise. For everything. Rowan and Kenna included."

Bash gave him a strained smile before he left, closing the door behind him as Henry turned to Francis expectantly.

"A king must always have solutions," Henry told him. "What happened, Francis? Why do we have your future wife and Monsieur Blanc kissing like schoolchildren?"

Francis grinned. "I don't know. He can't quite keep his hands to himself when he has a beautiful woman nearby." His smile left his face. "How long have you known?"

"Oh, since he came into fruition," Henry admitted. "I enjoyed living vicariously through your beloved alter-ego. I can't believe I never thought of such disguises when I was growing up. Or whenever I wanted peace from the weight the crown had on me."

"Mother." Francis sighed. "Why does she do what she does?"

"People who love control, who are so used to being in control do not know what to do when they're not in control," Henry said. "They have to find a way to benefit themselves. With the first article, she looks like the woman scorned. With the second, everyone will comfort the Queen whose son will supposedly not be looked after during his marriage."

"I am an adult," Francis told him. "She can't be this jealous over a woman who will marry me. It's not like I'll reject her and forbid her from being in my life or my future children's."

Henry shrugged. "She gets lonely. I do not pay her enough attention these days. Her mother was always butting into our marriage. Maybe that's why I stopped attending to her needs after we had Louis."

"I thought it was because having children put a strain on her?"

"That too," Henry admitted. "Your mother has never experienced love. We did love each other but on friendly terms. It was only lust, never deep."

Francis took a seat. "She just wasn't Diane."

Henry's eyes watered as he nodded. "I tried to hurt Diane, to keep her away so I could do what I could to fix France. I've made things worse. But when you're king, you will not have to rely on Italy because you will marry a wonderful half-French woman who will do things for the benefit of France and not Italy." Henry scoffed. "The number of male cousins I allowed into our Military services and Parliament because her country had a hold on ours..."

"Why didn't you tell me?"

"Because by now, I thought I could have your mother be loyal to France," Henry replied. "But it is no worry. We can still fix things."

...

_Last Night_

"The security team told me that our son had a good day today," Catherine said, entering Henry's bedroom.

He was in his bed, reading a book. He placed it down to give her his full attention with, "That is good."

"It is a shame he didn't spend it with the Marquise," Catherine said.

Henry smiled to himself. "No?"

"He phoned me to tell me that he was attending to an old school friend's stag party in Calais," Catherine replied, taking a seat by his covered feet. "He left the Marquise with the tour guide he always leaves his friends with. The elderly man with too much time on his hands. I've had some of the team keep an eye on him. He seems lonely and harmless enough."

Henry chuckled. "Leave the elderly be, Catherine. I am sure Francis knows what he is doing by seeking his help. The more support he has, the better. Even if they're old, lonely men."

"And what support will you have, say, if people know about your affair?"

Henry froze. "Catherine?"

"The Comtessa de Barton," she said. "Have you no shame, sleeping with the daughter of your friend?"

Henry shifted and got out of the bed. "I did not sleep with-"

"Don't treat me as a fool, Henry!" Catherine snapped.

"Fine. I slept with her," Henry admitted. "But it will never happen again because it was a mistake. I respect her father as well, we were good friends."

Catherine scoffed. "She's not the only one is she?"

"Catherine, we do not love each other. We have accepted that. We even sleep in separate rooms," Henry told her. "Why do you care if I've slept with other people?"

"Eight years," Catherine said quietly. "Eight years since you touched me the way you touched that slut."

Henry nodded. "Well, there is no need for us to continue such a relationship."

"Nine children I gave you-"

"And you gave that Navy Amiral one."

Catherine faltered. "_What_?"

"Before we married, you didn't come to France for me. But for your secret lover who you kept from your parents. You bore him a child, had that child live with his family and kept it from me for years," Henry said, crossing his arms. "I did my research before I decided to accept your proposal. You will always love him more than whatever you feel for me."

Tears sprung to Catherine's eyes. "Just as you will always love Diane more than you do love me."

"Well, we never lie to each other, Catherine," he said gently. "I'm truly sorry."

"Me too," Catherine said, getting up and leaving.

As she walked, she felt a presence by her side.

"Monsieur Nostradamus," she said, turning to him. "I have quite the stories for you."

Nostradamus sighed. "I cannot do that any longer. My family and I are leaving for Spain-"

"And a lovely little lump of money to buy a beautiful little cottage will be in it for you."

He shook his head but nodded. "What is it about?"

"The King," Catherine said. "And make this one hurt him. To the core."

...

_Present Day_

"Mary, don't go," Francis begged her, stopping her from packing.

Mary tutted. She wished she hadn't brought so much nor bought just as more. "I am going home. I am out of my element here," she told him. "I don't think I'll be a good queen. Not like Catherine Middleton will be for Prince William. She's perfect and here I am, scandal after scandal."

"We're organising a press conference," he said. "We will explain everything."

"Formal statements won't make all of this disappear."

"Yes, they will with evidence," Francis said. "Evidence like this..." He took out a picture from the inside of his suit jacket and showed her.

Mary studied it, bringing it up to her eyes. "Dear God, it looks _real_."

"Yes," Francis smiled. "Narcisse is a miracle worker. All that shows is that Kenna and Bash got a little bit too frisky the night of our engagement party. It helped that my father and he wore similar suits. We just had to alter my father's tie for a bowtie."

Mary chuckled softly. "Wow."

"I know, right?"

"And what about-"

"My makeup artists are on their way to lightly put on Monsieur Blanc's face mask. I'll take it off and reveal to the world that I've played a practical joke on them and you were in on it all along."

Mary sighed. "That solves two out of three problems."

"What's the last one?"

"Your mother."

"She will not be able to be involved in the rest of the wedding events. She will not attend the rehearsal dinner but she will attend the wedding and the family presentation afterwards. on the balcony," Francis assured her. "And she will be kept away from you and Kenna."

Mary turned to face him fully and he cupped her cheeks. "I... I don't know. I don't know if doing all of this is worth it."

"Mary, of course, it is!"

"I've been thinking... Maybe I'm not cut out to be a queen."

"What? Of course, you are!"

Mary sighed. "Francis, I'm sorry."

"How can this destroy something fifteen years in the making?" Francis asked, incredulous.

"It's not just this... It's the secrets-"

"What secrets?"

"This marriage may be more for your father and France than you and me," Mary said softly. "France is always in debt, she's sucking Italy dry so the next best thing is some wealthy heiress with an attractive bank sum."

Francis frowned. "What?"

"You don't know?"

"No, what? Are you saying..."

"Henry and Catherine's marriage was only ever about money and that is what our marriage would be like too," Mary told him. "I thought I could look past that, my wealth is protected no matter what. But thinking about it, I'm letting myself in for more than I can handle."

"Mary, I... You can't alone solve France's debt-"

"I did some investigating and a source told me that I could easily pay off France's debts with a lot to spare," Mary said. "That is how rich I am and your father could exploit that."

"But my father is on our side-"

"Is he really?"

"He did say that Italy had a hold over France, but I didn't... Mary, we could fix this."

Mary smiled sadly, kissing him softly before pulling away. "Goodbye, Francis."

...

Mary wiped her cheeks, sniffling as she rested her head against the wall of the jet. She felt a hand grip hers and she turned to give Kenna a smile. Everything will be alright.

"Mary, I'm so sorry," Kenna said. "This is all my fault. If I hadn't slept with Henry we'd-"

"We'd still be here," Mary said quietly. "Because Catherine would still hate me and Henry would still need my money."

Lola shook her head sadly. "Is there nothing we can do? You love Francis and this could all be solved quickly."

"It's too late," Mary said, her voice strained. "I don't have the strength to fight Catherine. I had a hand in pushing her to this - I threatened her because of Kenna. In fact, that may have led to your kidnapping, Kenna."

Kenna gasped. "Mary, you didn't have to-"

"I did, to show her who was boss," Mary told her. "I protect you all because you're my _sisters_. Without you, I wouldn't be here. I'd be a nun by now!"

"Something Kenna really needs to consider," Greer said. "Why don't you play something for us on your guitar, Kenna?"

Kenna sunk into her seat. "Not feeling very musical right now."

"It was sweet of Bash, to do that for you," Lola said.

"I know where his heart is," Kenna replied sadly. "He was doing that out of respect for me. He doesn't even love me but..."

"You love him," Mary whispered in shock. "You've never fallen in love. More or less so quickly!"

Kenna smiled a little. "He's my guardian angel in a little way. He was there for me when I came to him following Catherine releasing me from her evil clutches. And he showed me a world I wanted to see. There was something beyond the lust we had for each other on the app. I even deleted it because I thought I'd found the one."

"And you, Lola?" Mary asked the other brunette.

Lola blushed furiously. "Remy is just a Parisian romance. Now, there will never be something between us."

"Same with me and Leith," Greer mumbled sadly. "Now, I'll marry some rich, old man. I thought we'd moved past those ways."

"Your family do, kind of, need the money," Mary said gently. "Just like Francis's."

"And Leith is new money. His wealth is not assurance."

"Neither is old money," Kenna argued. "Wise investments goes a long way. Just ask your late father, Mary."

Mary closed her eyes, wiping more tears. "You're right."

Her mother came up to them, holding a tablet. "We're leaving in forty. The jet needs a refuel and some safety checks. We wouldn't want to put anything to chance with Queen Catherine's wrath."

"Will Uncle Christian be coming with us?"

"He's remaining in France. The Parliament is not impressed with his niece's 'ways'," Marie said with a heavy sigh. "He went to Versailles to smooth things over."

Mary bit her lip, opening her eyes and looking out the window. "So I've messed things with him up. Will he still be able to be in Parliament?"

"Of course," Marie replies. "We're de Guises, we never keel over for anyone. "

She looked down at her tablet when it beeped and she frowned.

"It is a live press conference from Fontainebleau," Marie said. "_Breaking News, the Royal Family Speak Out On Current Events.'_"

"Put it on its stand," Mary said, watching her mother set it up on the table between the younger women.

"Is he going to say that the wedding is off?" Lola asked.

Mary shrugged. "I have no idea."

...

Henry walked into the room, Michel and his father, Gautier, following behind. The room conference room became silent once he entered and he took a seat in the middle of the table and cleared his throat.

"Thank you all for gathering at such short notice," Henry said. "Things have been... eventful at the chateau and I know you want answers to what is going on in my family. Today, everything will be cleared and we will use this as a learning experience and a chance to start things anew for the upcoming years."

"Your Majesty!" A female reporter called out. "Was it really you who was in relations with the Marquise's friend?" She asked, emitting noises from the other reporters.

Henry raised a hand to politely silence them. "No, it was not me. That photograph on the French Times was altered to make it look like it was me. You see, twenty-three years ago, my first wife and I had a son. Recently, he came to me to ask for the Comtessa de Barton's hand in marriage. I approved that marriage proposal and called her father, Duke de Barton, Robert Beaton. He is a dear friend of mine from my younger years and it was heartwarming to find out that his daughter and my son were together without our micro-managing." He smiled, making the reporters chuckle. "The original photograph is being sent to your tablets."

"So, this is your eldest child, the Baron?"

Henry nodded. "The Baron de Avon," he said. "Sébastien Valois-Angoulême-de Poitiers. And also, the newly titled, Duke of Orléans. I understand that the photographs were heated but they had just learnt that the Duke and I had both approved of their union. And were clearly happy to find that out."

The reporters started a low murmur of shocked conversations. Henry kept his cool, waiting for them to get over their shock so he could continue. He could silence them, but he needed to think clearly about what he said next.

"For the past twenty-three years, my eldest son has not been a working royal but today that changes. That changes because not only are one of my sons getting married in the near future but two. And that leads me to my second point today," Henry said. "You may have seen the future dauphine in _relations_ with an elderly man, but I can reveal to you now that the man you reported on was not an elderly man but the Dauphin himself, François. In order to travel around France peacefully, he enlists the aid of professional makeup artists to change his appearance."

Just then, Monsieur Blanc entered and took the seat to Henry's right. Francis quickly began to peel the disguise off, taking his white-haired wig off his head and shaking out his blonde locks for everyone gasp in awe at.

"Even royals need a sense of normality," Francis said, smirking a little as he placed the faked skin onto the table before them. "That," he pointed downwards. "Was Monsieur Blanc. He was widowed, a tour guide, grandfather to ten, and his bowel movements were one to compete with. Yes, I do give my disguises backstories because you never know what might happen."

"Your Highness!" A male reporter called out. "Will you reveal the identities of your other disguises?"

Francis shook his head. "No, I will not. It was time to retire Monsieur Blanc."

"So, you were under the guise of an elderly man and the man in the photo with the Marquise was actually you, the Duke de Anjou?" Another reporter asked.

"Yes," Francis said, nodding. "I had intended to show my future wife around France more without interruption. She is half-French after all and needed to get to know the culture before we wedded. We went with our wonderful friends and the Duke of Orléans and his own betrothed. It was a day and night to remember."

"Can you highlight what you did on the day?"

"I would rather our plans past and future be private," Francis replied. "To respect the people we were with's privacies."

"Understandable," Henry said, taking over. "Any questions?"

An array of hands went up.

...

"But I didn't consent to marriage," Kenna said lightly.

Mary sighed heavily. "That seemed positive enough. We're staying."

"Thank God!" Greer cried out. "Honestly? Going back to freezing cold Scotland was not my plan!"

Mary chuckled, reaching over to squeeze her blonde friend's hands. "Francis came through."

"So, do you want to put an end to this silliness and return?" Kenna asked her.

"I do," Mary said, smacking her lightly. "Mother, cancel the jet. We're going back to Fontainebleau."

Marie took her tablet. "Are you sure?"

"Our family are already prominent enough in France. It makes sense if we want to modernise things," Mary said. "The spouse of the monarch taking on a role even as a female."

"Mary, you were so hellbent on leaving-"

"But Francis has proved that he can gain the support of the French people. Hence, turn them into liking us. Mother, you said it yourself, you miss France."

"But Scotland became my home."

"It became your prison," Mary whispered softly. "After Dad's death, you dedicated yourself to me and Jim. It is time to put yourself first and be with your family. I will be married, but I will still need my mother but not my micro-manager."

Marie smiled sadly. "When did you become so smart?"

"I've always been smart," Mary said coyly. "You just never saw it, to believe in me. That I could do greater things on my own. And hopefully, handle the likes of Catherine de Medici."

"Collin?" Marie called out to their head of security. "Find us the quickest route back to the chateau. We have a wedding in a week to prepare for."


	7. Revenge Is Sweet And Bloody

**Replies to reviews:**

****elder441 [chapter 6]: Hehe, thank you! One chapter left to go until the big wedding!****

* * *

The vaults.

The vaults were full of expensive family heirlooms and Mary never knew that it laid underneath the ground they walked on. The first vault held Catherine's wedding dress on a mannequin and her priceless jewellery surrounding it. Italian silks and materials as well as jewels...

"We'll have a vault built for you as well," Francis said into her ear which made her smile.

"I don't need a vault."

"Just wait until I spoil you during our marriage," Francis replied, opening the second vault. He stepped back and let Mary, Bash and Kenna enter it. "Don't go near the ring in the middle. It's... It's not ours."

Bash ignored Francis's warning and walked up to the boxed item. "It's my grandmother's ring. Why is it here and not with my mother?"

"Dad said she asked him to keep it safe."

"It's not worth much," Bash told them honestly as he took the ring out of the box. "But it holds a lot of meaning."

Kenna stood on his left as Mary stood on his right, both staring at the little ring. They'd both seen many pictures of it on the Archduchess of Avon's finger, never guessing that it wasn't as valuable as they thought. Nor did they expect to find out that it wasn't a Valois heirloom but a de Poitiers'.

"It's so beautiful," Mary told him.

"It is, isn't it?" Bash replied. "My grandmother and grandfather were walking by the Seine one day and there was this little pop-up shop full of jewellery. My grandfather, Duke de Poitiers, was obviously a rich man but even he couldn't deny the desires of my grandmother who grew up poor in the French Carribean island of Guadeloupe. She chose this ring and he proposed right there and then."

"That's so sweet," Kenna said, resting her chin on his shoulder. "It was kind of your father to protect it. Even if its value isn't even a quarter of what the other valuables are worth in this vault."

Bash smiled a little, turning to face her fully. "Your hand, please."

Kenna gasped. "I couldn't. That's your grandmother's ring-"

"I... I think she would have wanted you to have it."

"And not your older half-siblings?"

Bash chuckled. "They've long since married. They do not care for a ring just because it has sentimental feelings attached to it," he said. "But it brings good luck."

Kenna tentatively gave him her hand and he slipped the purple rock onto her ring finger before pressing a soft kiss on the back of her hand. She smiled, blushing as she stepped away to admire a tiara. In all honesty, she wasn't too eager to rub her new relationship in front of the more stable couple.

"This tiara...," she said, pointing at it. "That's the tiara Marie Antoinette wore, isn't it?"

"It is," Francis confirmed, coming to join her with Mary. "No one has ever worn it to a formal event. Not even my mother."

The tiara was beautiful, sparkling and precious and Mary gasped at its beauty. She reached out to touch it but she quickly brought her hand back, blushing furiously.

"It's okay," Francis said, chuckling. "It has been tried on."

He carefully lifted it up and placed it on top of Mary's head. He kissed her cheek and stepped back, taking her hand and giving her a low bow which made them laugh.

"Your Highness."

Mary blushed. "Your Highness," she replied, doing a curtsey. "Take it off, it's too precious to play around with."

"Very well," Francis said, taking it and putting it back. He led the group over to a set of gold jewellery with sapphire gems. There was a necklace, a bracelet, a pair of earrings and a middle finger ring. "Now this is what you will wear on our wedding day."

"Jesus, Francis," Kenna breathed out. "I've seen photos of the Archduchess of Avon wear it at the conference with the officials from Saudi Arabia twenty-five years ago." She saw them turn to her. "I may have researched a little into my future mother-in-law."

Bash grinned, kissing the side of her head. "A lot of people are still obsessed with my mother. She was the opposite of Princess Diana but over the years, she's more philanthropic and charitable."

"Anyway," Francis said, turning to Mary. "This is worth in the regions of two million euro."

"I'll be wearing two million euro on my person on our wedding day?" Mary cried out. "No, Francis! The most I've worn was only two grand."

"That's a lie," Kenna mumbled.

Mary blushed. "Okay, maybe more when it's my birthday but still!"

"It's been worn at every wedding, christening and baptism. Even at every important business deal," Francis said. "Mary, this isn't negotiable and also, you will look so beautiful. More beautiful than the women who wore this before." He eyed Bash. "No offence to our mothers."

"I'm not offended," Bash said, chuckling.

Francis smirked. "So, Mary? What do you say?"

Mary sighed heavily. "Fine, I will literally bear the weight of your family's jewels. Do I get a lovely tiara whilst I'm at it?"

"Now, _that_ is up for negotiation."

...

"I can't believe that Elisabeth spilt her drink all over you!" Lola said as they hurried out the rehearsal dinner, two days before the wedding.

Kenna dabbed at the wine stain. "I could slap her for you."

"Don't," Mary said quickly.

"She's just jealous," Greer told her. "I mean, I even heard Catherine saying that Margaret was the most beautiful child she had. That Elisabeth may be her favourite, but not the prettiest. Then Margaret went on to say that everyone is prettier than Elisabeth. Even her future sister-in-law, you."

Mary blushed as they walked past Michel and Gautier. "That's a lie."

"It's true," Lola told her. "Margaret looks up to you!"

Mary halted. "Too bad Elisabeth and Claude do not follow suit. They are mini-Catherine bots, going around and thinking that they are better than the rest of us. You know what?"

"What?"

"I think it's time to play fire with fire," Mary said.

After getting dressed in something different, something she would never go for, courtesy of Kenna's wardrobe, she stepped back into the dining hall. All eyes were on her and she smirked.

She wore a midnight blue dress, the straps were in the formation of an 'X' across her chest, exposing some cleavage. It also exposed one of her legs with a thigh slit and it had sparkling Swarovski gemstones in the skirt. She saw her mother shake her head a little but refuse to comment which made her sigh in relief.

"Drink, Marquise?" A butler asked her.

"Yes," she said, collecting it before sitting back down beside Francis.

"I apologise for Lissie's behaviour-"

"It's fine," she said quietly as her friends took their seats. "Jealousy is such an ugly colour."

Francis cleared his throat. "We can leave if you want." He eyed his mother warily. They couldn't disallow her from this. At least after the wedding was over and done with, they'd keep their distances and live in Versailles.

"Tell us more about yourself, Marquise," Margaret suddenly said from across the table.

Everyone was silent and all eyes were on Mary. She gave them a bright smile and nodded, placing her drink down on the table.

"I love dogs," Mary began. "I have a New Zealand Shepherd called Stirling. He's in Scotland currently, being looked after by the Beatons. When the honeymoon is over, he will be here with Francis and me. He's really excited to meet his new father."

"Are you and your friends close?" Claude asked, eyeing Kenna, Lola and Greer, her loyal bodyguards.

Mary nodded. "We attended the same nursery, primary school and secondary school. We went to different universities depending on our respective degrees."

"What did you study, exactly?" Elisabeth asked her.

"I studied Biology," Mary said. "It was simple enough. And I completed a three-year degree after finishing my A-Levels quickly."

Margaret beamed. "A smart woman," she said. "I wanted to go to university but Mother wouldn't allow it."

"You do not need to think about _education_. You can easily learn from home, just as you did up until now," Catherine said which made her daughter roll her eyes in annoyance.

"I want to be normal, Mother," Margaret snapped, taking a sip from her wine. "In England, they allow their princes and princesses to attend university!"

"We do things differently here," Henry said gently. "Pearl..."

Margaret sighed. "Apologies, everyone. Sometimes I forget that us women aren't that important than our fellow brothers."

"Margaret," Kenna called her. "If you really want to learn, I can tutor you in whatever you like."

"You can?"

"I studied English Literature and Language," Kenna told her. "I'm sure you can seek an online degree somehow and if you need help, I can help you."

Mary smiled proudly at her friend. "Kenna is a jack of all trades, you see," she told the girls. "Fluent in fifteen languages, a degree holder, a fashionista, diva at times, singer and capable of picking up any instrument and playing it expertly. She is a virtuoso."

"Mary," Kenna warned her lightly. "Don't shine the light on me-"

"Is that so?" Catherine asked, eyeing Kenna intently. "Say, do you know how to speak Japanese?"

Kenna fluently replied, stating that she could. In English, she added, "I travelled to Japan for six weeks and picked the language up fairly easily. My brothers and I attend charities on our parents' behalf so Japan was a holiday stop."

Bash turned to her in surprise. "Uh, can you speak Russian?"

Kenna smirked. "Da, ya mogu. Ty mozhesh'?"

"Da," Bash said, impressed. "Thank God, we're not getting married just yet. You keep coming out with surprises."

Mary laughed. "Honestly, if everyone just got to know us better, we wouldn't be butting heads," she said, looking at Catherine in particular. "My friends and I aren't the malicious vixens you believe we are. Or that the _media_ portray us to be."

"No, they are not," Henry said, turning to Elisabeth. "What you did earlier was unacceptable, Elisabeth. Mary is your superior, she will be queen one day and you will need to find a way to be friends with her. That and your brother and she are in love and nothing will change that."

Elisabeth's eyes flashed with something Mary recognised but she planted a smile on her face. "Of course, Father," she said insincerely. "I sincerely hope that Mary can forgive me."

"We should be honest," Mary began. "With how we feel about each other. It helps us move forward."

"I think that is a good idea, Marquise," Henry said. "Then we can use the wedding as a fresh start. A chance for us all to be _family_."

"Exactly," Francis said, taking Mary's hand under the table.

Henry nodded, looking at Mary's empty glass and lifting up the decanter her way. "More wine, Your Ladyship?"

"Why, thank you, Your Majesty," Mary said, watching him refill her glass.

"Soon, you'll drop such formalities. I've always hated the titles."

Mary chuckled. "Very well, Sir."

"Not that."

"_Henry_?"

"That's better."

Mary smiled. "'Henry' it is."

...

That night, Mary found a dead rat on her pillow.

"I know exactly how to get back at her," Kenna said. "Just give me one hour."

Mary sighed. "Don't do anything. The wedding's in two days, we can't afford any misfortunes," she told her friend as they began to dispose of the carcass in Catherine's rose garden.

"I won't," Kenna assured her. "I'm just surprised that Michel gave us shovels with no questions asked."

Mary giggled. "He must think we're strange. In our pyjamas at twelve in the morning, requesting shovels, a bin bag and fertiliser."

"I will be your perfect partner in crime," Kenna said lightly, using her shovel to pat down the burial site. "Farewell, rat. You won't be missed."

"Dearly beloved, we gather here to say goodbye to Ratty. Ratty who didn't know what he was getting into when he crossed paths with Princess Elisabeth," Mary continued. "Rest in pieces."

They burst into giggles and finished up, returning the shovels and fertiliser to Michel who gave them a knowing smirk.

"I had the maids clean up your bed," he told Mary. "No more nasty surprises and I will put Fabian at your door for the whole night."

"Thank you, Michel," Mary said, linking her arm with Kenna's as they headed back to their rooms.

The minute they entered the living room that connected their bedrooms, they found Francis waiting. He looked concerned but when his eyes landed on Mary, he was relieved.

"You disappeared," he said. "Lola and Greer couldn't find you."

"Oh, Kenna and I needed some fresh air," Mary told him, patting her friend's hand. "Goodnight, Countess."

"I bid you a lovely night, Marchioness," Kenna replied with a smirk as she returned to her bedroom. But something told Mary that she would not be sleeping but seeking revenge on Francis's sister.

Mary walked up to Francis and cupped his cheeks. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing," he mumbled.

"Tell me, darling."

"Dinner was tense," he said lightly, moving away from her towards the window. "Bash told me he couldn't wait to leave after it."

Mary chuckled softly. "I'm sorry."

"No, it's fine," Francis told her. "My sisters need to know their place. My mother let them have free reign. Even as children, they overpowered _me_ and most of it was because of my short nature and the fact that my hair was long enough for them to style as if I was a baby doll."

Mary laughed. "So _that's_ why I saw you with pink hair clips in your hair when we first met at five," she said, wrapping her arms around his waist.

"Yes," he said, chuckling. "Although I believe our relationships were better when we were children. I mean, they find out what Bash is doing through a news article. What does that say about us as siblings?"

"James and I don't talk much because..." She sighed heavily, going over to sit on the sofa. "Can you come and sit down?"

"Of course," Francis replied, taking a seat beside her and pulling one leg up beneath him as he rested his elbow on the top of the seat.

Mary shook her head as if trying to get rid of the memories. "I was ten and he was nineteen. He had his girlfriend come over to the Summer Cottage that we used as a holiday home. Mum was busy, she always was back then so it was only James and me." She bit her lip, trying to stop the tears from coming.

"You don't have to tell me-"

"In two days, you'll be my husband," Mary said softly. "I want to tell you everything."

"No secrets?"

"None at all," she whispered. She looked down at her hands. "We went for a swim in the river. I was terrified because it was flowing quickly but James and Lorraine were fine with it. Just as James was helping me get down, his phone rang - it was Mum checking on us. He got out of the lake and went to take the call away from us. Then it began to rain heavily and I slipped inside the river from the bank and Lorraine got inside to help me. We both drowned and James was forced to make a decision between his sister or his girlfriend. I don't think he ever forgave me for her death even though he knew deep down, it wasn't my fault. But it helped him to blame someone because her parents blamed him. Not even my mother could smooth things over and James stopped coming home and kept away in his grief over Lorraine and his hate for me."

"You were a child," Francis breathed out. "It wasn't your fault that you were pulled into the river."

Mary shrugged. "But it is, isn't it? If I had stayed back from the bank and waited for James or we'd even gone inside after it began to rain... Lorraine wouldn't have followed me inside. We all knew she was a good swimmer but not good against the current. I even robbed him of the chance to hear her last words... And they were my name being called by her. I still hear her at times. It's worse in August when it happened."

"I'm so sorry," Francis said.

"It's fine," Mary replied. "I invited him to the wedding, but he politely declined. I wonder if I'd be judged for only having my mother and third cousin attend my wedding. The bride's side would be scarce."

Francis kissed her. "I doubt it."

"It's true," Mary replied. "If we hadn't invited the Pope, Prime Minister, Mayors and other diplomatic and public figures to the wedding. Including those French celebrities. The ushers should all direct them to my side because your side will be full of your relatives, extended and intimate."

"You shouldn't forget the de Guises."

Mary chuckled. "No, I shouldn't. They'll have their own five rows in their own, actually. I could almost match your family with them alone."

"I love you, you know that, don't you?"

Mary nodded. "I do," she whispered. "I love you too."

"So, no secrets?"

She needed to promise him again. "No secrets."

"Then, why didn't you tell me that Elisabeth put a dead rat on your bed?" He asked her.

"How did you...?"

"I was coming to see you and followed you and Kenna. It was very funny, that little eulogy," he said, making them laugh. "Elisabeth was never squirmish. I remember her putting rats and the like under our governess and governor's beds. Claude d'Urfé, Jean and Françoise d'Humières would always line us all up and demand to know who did it. Margaret always tattled because they threatened to take her bespoke dollhouse away. These days, they can't bargain with her and she keeps things to the grave."

Mary laughed. "I'm glad to know that it's not only me she disliked and showed her collection of dead animals."

"Indeed," Francis said with a sigh. "I... Nevermind."

"No, go ahead, what is it?"

"Nothing."

"Francis-"

"We should get to bed," Francis said, checking the time. "Today will be the last day we'll be unwed."

"It will be," Mary whispered happily, but she won't forget his hesitance. "I can't wait to be your wife."

"I can't wait to be your husband," Francis replied. "I will stay in your room tonight. Just in case Elisabeth tries anything."

"Thank you."

"You're welcome, love."

...

Mary groaned when a flash hit her face and she pulled the duvet over it. "Why...?"

"Darling, we have a full day ahead of us!" Kenna sang to her, pulling back the curtains even more which made Mary and Francis groan.

"So do we," Bash said, pulling the duvet off them. "It's nine already and the last day of your single lives."

"Uh, we aren't technically single-"

"You know what I mean!" Bash replied, dumping a towel on his brother. "Get showered and pull out your old golfing gear."

Francis groaned. "No... We _hate_ golf."

Bash sighed, nodding. "Guess whose idea it was."

"His Royal, Majestic Majesty's?"

"Indeed. He invited General de Medici, General de Guise _and_ Duke Beaton. He thought it was time to know my future father-in-law considering we used him to cover up his mistakes."

Francis chuckled, opening his eyes finally. "Will we at least have people more of our age?" He asked, getting out of bed.

"Oui. The regular idiots. Bayard and the Vargas. Even Charles. Although I have a feeling that they will mysteriously cancel on us."

"And for us..." Kenna said, jumping onto Mary on the bed. "We get to go to the spa!"

Mary looked at her friend who hovered above her. "The _spa_?"

"Yes!" Kenna said happily. "I took the courtesy to ask Margaret to come along! And Claude since we can work on that vindictive cow, but it should be great and fun and relaxing."

"Claude is not relaxing, but don't say I didn't warn you," Francis said lightly, heading into the bathroom with the door remaining open. "She will do anything to ruin your day."

"Let her try," Kenna replied. "Dealing with grievances is my thing-"

The door flew opened and Elisabeth stormed in, pointing to her blue hair.

"Who did this?!"

Bash bit back a smile and came up to her, taking a strand of her hair and shaking his head. "Oh, dear. Lissie, that is not your colour."

"Shut up, Baron," Lissie hissed, rolling her eyes.

"_Duke_," Bash corrected her. "And that hair won't look good in the official photos."

"I can't go to the wedding like this!" Lissie whined, crossing her arms angrily.

"Well, that's a shame," Kenna said happily. "You won't be missed."

Elisabeth glared at her. "It was you, wasn't it? You bitch."

"I do not know what you're talking about, Princess," Kenna replied, coming over to her. "I was with my fiancé all night. Right, mon amour?"

Bash nodded. "She was. I'd rather keep what we were doing to ourselves if you get what I mean."

Elisabeth scoffed. "I really hate you all," she breathed out, leaving.

Bash turned to Kenna. "Was that why you had blue dye stained on your hands last night when you joined me in bed?"

"No..." Kenna trailed off. "Innocent until proven guilty."

"There are security cameras..."

"I paid Michel off," Kenna said and then grinned.

Mary groaned, laying back down on the bed. "Kenna, I said-"

"I know but she deserved it."

Bash chuckled. "Dear God, what have I got myself into?" He asked her, pressing a long kiss onto her lips.

Mary cleared her throat and they pulled away and turned to her. "Yes, I am still here."

"And I have ears!" Francis added as the shower turned on.

"Oh, do be quiet," Kenna told them. "We don't complain when you're all over each other in the VIP box or the Seine. Speaking of the Seine, Bash and I have bought a lovely house or two."

"Yes, a secure villa in the 16th district by Bastille. Great place to raise children and for guests to come and visit," Bash said. "It's gated and very close to Versailles so we'll be able to see each other frequently. "

"And the other house is a twelve-bedroom townhouse for business purposes," Kenna added. "And to keep the guests we don't like should they need to stay with us."

Mary smiled. "Francis and I haven't even looked at holiday properties much less secret homes. We were just going to remain at Versailles but it wouldn't hurt to seek private residences for when we do have children and that could very well be soon."

"You have all the time in the world," Kenna told her. "Now get ready. I'm sure you and future hubby won't mind sharing a shower because we need to leave in an hour."

"We'll leave you both now," Bash said, leading Kenna out.

"They're gone!" Mary called out to Francis.

Francis peeked his head through the door. "Good," he said with a cheeky grin. "Want to, uh, join me? Feeling kind of cold."

Mary laughed, starting to strip. "On my way."

...

"Have I told you how much I hate golf?" Francis asked his brother.

"Would never have guessed," Bash said, putting his sunglasses on as he looked over at their younger brother. "Charles is trying to impress Father. Shame he doesn't realise that Father is too busy trying to kiss General de Medici's arse to focus on his sons."

Francis grinned. "Works for me. Now, I don't need to be embarrassed by my lack of golf skills." He swung and missed the ball which made Bash chuckle.

"Oh, dear. Give me a horse and a few hurdles any day," the Duke of Orléans muttered.

Francis cursed, but he finally managed to get the ball in the air. It landed not that far off from the hole and he gasped. "No way."

"Pity luck," Bash told him, putting his gold club away. "I'm bored. I really hate that I agreed to this."

"You forced me out of my woman's warmth," Francis said as they walked up to the ball. "I had no complaints until now."

"She wouldn't have been there anyway with her own plans," Bash replied. "Don't worry, you'll be with her forever soon. Even when people try to steal you away with deals and politics."

Francis grinned. "Oh, I just can't _wait _to be king!" He sang.

"Nice Lion King reenactment," Bash said lightly. "I'm just glad I got to miss out."

"Don't say that..." Francis trailed off and his eyes widened at the sight of a familiar blonde woman talking to an older man.

They both spotted Francis and Bash and began making their way over, much to both men's alarm.

"Mon Dieu... is that-"

"Olivia," Francis cut his brother off, his voice strained. "And her father, Duke D'Amencourt."

Olivia got to them first, hugging Francis and placing kisses on his cheeks before moving onto Bash who was surprised at the contact. She pulled away and beamed when her father shook the men's hands.

"It's been so long!" She said. "Two years!"

Francis nodded. "Yes," he replied. "Now, I'm getting married."

"Congratulations. Tomorrow is the big day?" Duke D'Amencourt said.

"Yes, Sir," Francis replied.

"And you too," she said, turning to Bash as she batted her eyelashes. "I guess your new bride will be happy to host all of those exciting parties you throw beside you. I still remember the Jurassic themed one! Oh and the Valentine's of 2017. We... we enjoyed that one, did we not, Sébastien?"

"Hmm," Bash hummed, getting ready to turn and leave but Francis discreetly grabbed onto his arm to keep him in place. "My future wife is perfect at everything. Including planning parties. I am very lucky to have her."

Olivia giggled. "I'm sure you are," she said, about to leave but she stopped. "Oh, I guess our invites were lost in the postal services?"

"Not at all," Francis said. "We wanted to do things differently and personally visited our guests. Unfortunately, we are still getting that done but now we have seen each other, you are hereby cordially invited to my wedding to the Marquise de Moray."

Oliva clapped her hands happily. "Wonderful! I returned home to Italy and couldn't stop thinking about you. We were very close, weren't we? Sunlit dinners on the river, moonlight dancing..."

Francis nodded stiffly. "Yes, but now I have a wife to do those with."

"A fiancée you mean."

"That changes tomorrow," Francis replied. "It was good to see-"

"And you, Duke de Poitiers?" Olivia turned to Bash. "Where's my invite to your wedding, beau?"

Bash smiled politely. "The Comtessa and I have yet to begin planning our wedding."

"Why?"

"Because we wouldn't want to overshadow Francis and Mary," Bash replied, turning to face his brother. "We should get going. I'm sure our father would-"

Duke D'Amencourt cleared his throat. "Dinner at our estate," he said. "You and the Dauphin."

"We would but you know how it is," Francis said. "The day before the wedding? It is very, very stressful and still so much to do."

"Soon, then," the Duke said. "We have to go, daughter. Busy schedule and more suitors to please with your golf skills."

Olivia giggled and remained as her father walked away to say, "It's a shame you're marrying Mary," to Francis. "We could have been great together."

"What we had is gone, Olivia," Francis told her. "I wish you all the best."

"You will see me tomorrow," Olivia promised him, pressing a long kiss on his cheek. "Don't drool when your eyes land on _me,_ lover."

After she left, Bash turned to Francis and said, "There's the manipulative bitch we all know and remember. Can't believe I ever slept with her."

"Indeed. Same here," Francis whispered, wiping his kiss-stained cheek. He turned towards the older men. "Uh oh, your father-in-law is waving us over."

"He is not my in-law just yet," Bash muttered as they began to walk over. "Lord save our souls."

...

Francis fixed his tie and sighed, the feeling of Olivia's kiss still tingling his cheek. He'd washed his face, had a shower and got dressed into a clean suit but he still couldn't remove the feeling of his former flame off him.

Before now, he and Mary were in an open relationship. It allowed them to see other people before they were committed for life but Francis made the mistake of telling this one in particular that he loved her. She had then got the idea that his mother loved her and was planning to rearrange a new marriage prospect for him.

But he chose Mary and he loves _Mary_.

"Don't tell Mary about Olivia," he told his brother and friends. "She doesn't need to know about her."

"Lying isn't wise, Francis," Bash told him. "Haven't you read-"

"L.D. Daniels' fifth book? I binged read it and I understand that but Olivia is the past and Mary is the future. I don't need her being worried or threatened over a crazy ex-girlfriend," Francis replied. "I love her and I don't want to lose her."

Leith zipped his mouth. "Secret's safe with me. Gutted we didn't see the drama unfold. I remember that time Olivia and I were locked in a cupboard and kissed for ten minutes straight when we were thirteen."

Remy snorted. "That never happened. You mean Greta Van Guten."

"I would never make out with an ugly girl!"

"You did," Julien said. "And you couldn't get rid of her for two weeks."

Leith's face fell. "Oh, shit. That's true. I guess I dreamed about Olivia then."

"Anyway..." Francis trailed off. "I can't believe that I will be the first one out of us to be married."

Remy stood up and cupped Francis's cheeks. "Gentlemen, our boy's all grown up. I remember when you were just eight. Now, you're twenty and you'll have a wife. Children, because they are important. A whole chateau to yourself..."

Francis smiled, laughing to himself. "Jealous?"

"Oh, no!" Remy replied. "I will live vicariously through you though, as the rest of us continue to drink and party for the rest of our days until our parents tell us to grow up and be sensible."

Leith scowled lightly. "Bash is getting married as well. Just last week, you were planning to go to Ibiza and Malaga with us! So we could wingman for each other and leave our holiday romances as they were, romances in the holiday."

"Then a seductive Comtessa from Scotland arrived and changed everything," Julien added. "Thanks to that stupid app we told you to delete _years_ ago."

"Even without the app, he would have still fallen for her," Francis said, leaving Remy's grip to retrieve his phone and put it in his pocket.

"I am right here," Bash told them, amused.

"I don't even understand," Remy continued on the subject. "He's _never_ fallen in love. The King's relationship with the Archduchess scarred him for life."

Bash got up from his seat. "At least have the courtesy to talk about me _behind_ my back," he said lightly. "Can we go to this dinner now? I'm getting tired."

"Just wait until you begin your official royal duties," Francis said. "They are never-ending and it is more than smiling and waving at the people. After my honeymoon ends, I have seventeen media appearances to attend to. Less than half with Mary. Oh, and I will be creating a new charity."

"Based on?" Leith asked.

"Women."

"Now, you're talking."

"No, future women," Francis said, making Leith frown. "Girls who want to study but do not have the funds to do so. I was thinking about it after learning about Mary and her friends' education stories. Like, Kenna can speak _fifteen_ languages and that is with her parents' financial aid. She along with the other women were probably private tutored but not all girls in France can have that luxury. Or have money to jet-set around the world on humanitarian projects and easily pick up knowledge. We need to make strong, brilliant, clever women. Women who will be independent and take our country into the future."

Bash nodded. "If a man can do it, a woman can too."

"That could be our slogan!" Francis said happily. "Although it is probably penned a lot before. So we will need to rethink it and speak to Mary and her friends about it if they want to be involved which will obviously be a good thing as I wouldn't want women or girls to feel pressured into joining a male-led charity. I should probably make Mary the face and mind behind it."

"You both could," Julien said. "The Duke and Duchess de Anjou, the Dauphin and Dauphine tackling uneducated girls and making them be able to be financially stable in their futures. Good on you, Francis."

Francis blushed. "Thank you. We should probably head down now before they think we've decided to ditch them."

...

"Are you yawning?" Greer asked Mary, eyes wide. "You can't fall asleep! It's our little bachelorette spa day."

"_Our_?"

"Yours," Greer said, playfully rolling her eyes.

Mary giggled. "I had a nightmare, it's nothing."

"Oh? About the dead rat?" Kenna asked. "Don't worry about that, it will be used by Catherine's beloved roses."

Lola laughed, picking her champagne flute up. "I still can't believe you did that!"

"Revenge is sweet," Kenna said, sipping her champagne.

"And Elisabeth?"

"Refer to my earlier statement," Kenna replied. "I will always defend my friends."

Mary smiled wryly. "But after I am married to Francis, it will have to stop."

"Really?"

"Yes!"

"Fine," Kenna whined. "It was fun while it lasted."

Mary shook her head in amusement at her friend's behaviour. "Thank you for your unwavering support, Countess."

They relaxed back in their seats and Mary's beautician started to do her nails. She couldn't remember the last time she had been pampered like this. Greer and Kenna went to do their hair and nails weekly but she did her own every other month, not really having the desire to pay for something she could do herself.

She smiled, opening her eyes and glancing over at her mother whose face was covered with a green face mask. "Remember when I only let you do my hair and cut my nails?"

"You were a stubborn, little girl," Marie said, taking the cucumbers off her eyes. "But I did enjoy those moments with you. Your father used to say he'd be willing to help you with your pigtails but..."

"He never got the chance," Mary said sadly.

Magaret and Claude eyed her, empathy in their eyes. It surprised Mary, Claude's reaction but it looked like the girl had a heart after all. When she was taken away from her mother, of course.

"I know it isn't the same," Claude began. "But our father was rarely interested in us. If he wasn't obsessing over the boys or checking out what Sebastian was doing, he was with his courtier, Narcisse and other advisors. He was a distant parent."

"But he was there," Margaret said. "To be on our side when we argued with Mother. To tell us to chase our dreams within reason. He just had to be a better king than husband or father."

Mary nods sadly. "Sometimes, in favour of one thing, we have to fail at other things. King and Country over marriage and children."

"Make sure Francis has a healthy balance," Margo tells her. "For all of our benefits."

Mary smiles. "I will."

...

"That was more relaxing than I thought," Mary said, putting her earrings on later that evening. "Now, we have to sit through this dinner with Kenna's future mother-in-law."

Kenna winced. "I wonder why," she said. "Apparently, she and Marie were close friends. Attended the same school or something, I don't know."

"She is the former Queen of France," Lola stated. "Perhaps, Henry wanted her to meet the future queen. She will not be at the wedding tomorrow after all and she came from South Africa to meet Kenna. Two birds, one stone."

There was a knock on the door and both Kenna and Mary visibly paled. They didn't know much about the Archduchess, all that she was a quiet woman these days who kept to herself and observed people silently.

"Thank God we're at Versailles," Greer mumbled, going over to the door when no else moved to answer. "Otherwise Catherine and she would be fighting."

"Marquise, Comtessa," Fabian greeted them when the door opened. "The Archduchess de Avon is waiting."

Mary led them, following behind Fabian. He opened the doors to the dining room and Mary straightened her back even more than before when she saw the Frenchwoman at the head of the circular table.

Diane looked up and her eyes softened, her finger beckoning the women inside. "Marquise de Moray, Comtessa de Barton, Lady Seton-Norwood and Lady Flemming," she guessed correctly as they entered. "Comtessa, my right. Marquise, my left."

Both women sat down in their designated seats as the wait staff pulled their seats back and helped them push them in again. Lola took Kenna's other side and Greer took Mary's other side.

"How do we address you?" Mary asked politely.

"However you wish," Diane said. "You're going to be queen. I am just a fallen one." She sipped her drink and glanced over at Kenna. "Aren't you a beautiful siren?"

Kenna chuckled nervously, using her left hand to brush her hair from her face. "Thank you, Ma'am."

Diane's smile left her face and she gently took Kenna's hand. "My ring."

"Yes," Kenna said, showing the older woman. "Bash-_Sebastian_ gave it to me."

Diane nodded stiffly. "It was my mother's. She loved that ring and so did I."

Kenna's face fell. "Oh, I'm so sorry. I thought you gave it to His Majesty for safe-keeping," she said, taking the ring off and presenting it to Diane. "I never meant to cause distress."

Diane smiled brightly. "Not at all," she said, her accent thick. "I did tell Henry to keep it safe for me. I... I travelled a lot over the years since our divorce. I abandoned Sébastien most of the time and visited his older half-siblings a few times... I tried to find _myself_. A meaning, a new meaning. I never wanted to lose it so... Anyway, it is yours now. My eldest son forgot about it and told me he didn't want a cheap ring on his wife's finger. Cherish it."

Kenna put the ring back on. "It doesn't look cheap at all," she told Diane. "It looks _priceless_. Fit for a royal."

"Do not flatter me," Diane said softly. "I know the circumstances of your engagement to my son. That the pictures in the newspapers are real."

Mary cleared her throat. "They were faked. Kenna and Bash are in love and nothing will stop them from being together."

"You think you can play me like you do Catherine?" Diane asked, taking a sip from her wine. "Darling, I _invented_ play."

"I do not know what you mean?"

"It is easy to manipulate and blackmail someone but it isn't easy to keep them under your thumb," Diane said to her. "I know that Catherine has been giving you grief with these stories. True or false, they do not matter as the only important thing is to destroy your credibility and reputation. It is like fire, it burns and destroys. Play with Catherine, you get burned a million times worse than you did her."

Mary looked down. "I do not know what you are talking about. Catherine and I are on friendly terms. The current queen helping the future queen."

Diane laughed. "Your mother and I talk, darling. I used to babysit your mother, actually. And your Uncle Christian. Now, her daughter is marrying my son's half-brother and her step-niece is marrying my son. Funny how life turns out."

"I-"

"You're very beautiful," Diane continued. "So precious but so naïve. Do you really think that Catherine will let you win this easily? That Henry could do something to stop his daughters and wife from treating you like prey?"

Mary turned to Diane. "What would you have me do? Bend over and give up? She almost won, but I didn't let her."

"Good."

"Good?"

"You have some fight in you," Diane told her. "Fight I never had. I couldn't compete with the Italian Princess. I gave up and never fought hard for anything. I was chased, hounded by the press, my son forced to live under secret identities... The only thing I wish that never happened was Sébastien because then, I would have been able to walk away unscathed. But he exists and he hurts and now, Henry will use him and Catherine will break him."

"How do you mean?" Kenna asked in alarm.

Diane smiled wryly, rolling her eyes. "Catherine hated the very existence of my youngest," she told the other women.

"She can't hurt him," Greer said. "He's Henry's eldest child."

"Hmm," Diane hummed. "And she's not that perfect either."

"What?" Lola asked, the rest of the women shocked.

Diane beamed. "That is not for me to say," she replied. "I am hungry. Is anyone else hungry as well?"

"Diane, if you have anything that can help me-"

"Clarissa," Diane said bluntly. "Clarissa Giroud. The daughter of Amiral Giroud."

Mary narrowed her eyes. "Clarissa... She was looking for Francis a few days back. I was under the influence so barely acknowledged what she was saying."

"She works for the royal staff," Diane said.

"But what does she have to do with anything?"

Diane shrugged indifferently. "Work it out, Marquise. Show me how smart you are."

Mary gasped. "Is... Is Clarissa Catherine's daughter, and Francis's and his sibling's half-sister?"

"And the award for the sharpest brain goes to the Marquise de Moray," Diane replied, finishing her drink. "It made contact easier. The girl was not the most attractive of girls, her looks stemming from the Amiral's side mostly, but Catherine loves her."

"How do you know about her parentage?"

"Henry told me," Diane whispered. "He told me shortly before he said he loved me. I hung up the call and continue to watch the elephants roam about in South Africa. I do not need his lies or his truth or even whatever he meant by that phone call. But the fact that it came after the birth of their first child together stung. Because I had hoped it would end with Francis but..."

Kenna smiled sadly. "Then went on to have eight more."

"They did," Diane whispered, heart-broken. "And he was so cruel. It took me a long time to get my son a title. Then three years after he sent me packing and her swanning into his bed, he told me he loved me? Small mercies, I guess. That my son didn't turn out as toxic as the rest of them."

"Francis isn't toxic. Nor is Margaret," Mary said gently.

"I know. There are a few apples that fell well away from the tree," Diane agreed. "But it takes a lot out of you. If Sébastien and I stayed, I would have coached him in being a working royal but he lived twenty-three years in privacy and now he's exposing himself and I'm afraid he will not be able to cope. Under the scrutiny, the scandals, the slander, the stress... The four 'S's. He's strong, but not that strong."

Kenna shrugged. "You should give Bash a chance to prove himself."

"_Bash_?" Diane asked, amused. "No longer using formalities?"

"We're friends now, Diane," Kenna said coyly. "Family, even."

"Well, _Kenna_," Diane began. "We will see. When the Duke de Anjou and his bride go on their honeymoon, all eyes will be on _Bash_. Can you be there him, for me?"

"I love the attention," Kenna said lightly. "That and I do not care what people think about me. So, yes. I will be there for him and guide him through whatever storm he goes through as a loyal, loving wife should."

Diane smiled brightly before she tutted at Kenna's earlier statement. "There was my mistake. Ladies, heed my warning. _Care _about what they think about you because if you are doing something that displeases them, they can turn on you and destroy your character. You need allies, not enemies. Be adored, not hated. Rule with your head and not your heart. Mary, be a good _queen_."

...

Mary couldn't believe it.

Catherine had a secret daughter.

Clarissa was Francis's supposed friend but in fact, his half-sister.

Diane was not as evil as people painted her out to be.

The former queen gave her valuable intel and life lessons to use.

She sat down on the bed and rubbed her face hard. She had to talk to Francis. They were apart for the final night, Francis as Fontainebleau and her at Versailles. She had been moved to the Queen's State Apartments of Versailles as future queen and her friends had joined her along with her mother.

The wedding was to take place at the Royal Chapel in the chateau. It made her nervous, her eyes stinging with tears as she felt sick. It was just cold feet, by morning, she'll get over it.

But she needed it to be now.

"Kenna?" Mary called her friend, storming into her room.

Kenna rolled over on her bed and turned to Mary. "Yes?"

"I need your phone."

"Why...?"

"I need to call Francis, now," Mary struggled to get out, taking a shaky breath.

Kenna gasped softly, taking her phone from under her pillow and getting up to hand it over to Mary. "What is wrong?"

"I just need to hear his voice," Mary whispered. "I will bring it right back-"

"Call Bash and he'll give it to him."

"Oh, yes," Mary said. Kenna didn't have Francis's number. No one had his number.

Kenna gave her a warm smile. "Any time, Mary. Go and talk to your man and be reassured."

When Mary returned to her bedroom, she called Bash and waited for him to pick up. She hoped that he was relatively close to Francis, Henry forcing Catherine to accept his son's presence at Fontainebleau and now Mary knew that it was because he accepted _her_ daughter's presence without complaint.

_"Hey, babe. Ready to continue our little conversation from earlier? God, I missed your sexy-"_

"Before you say anything further, this is Mary and I need to speak to Francis and not participate in any phone sex," Mary said, stifling a giggle as Bash yelped.

_"Well, oh-fuck. Fine,"_ Bash muttered, flustered. _"Uh, Francis? It's for you, goddamn it."_

The phone moved a lot after and there was a lot of movement, and soon Mary heard, _"Hey, love."_

"Hi," Mary said, laughing. "Oh, God. I've scarred Bash."

_"He'll get over it,"_ Francis replied, laughing. _"I hope it isn't the same for you? Apparently, he and Kenna get _really_ explicit in their little phone calls. It's been happening all day. He took one before dinner and he came back more relaxed than usual with a stupid grin on his face. Dear God..."_ His voice moved away from the phone and he returned to say. _"He apologises for that. The whole thinking you were Kenna and phone sex thing."_

Mary snorted, giggling. "God, forgive my friends for they have sinned. And so have we. Catholics having sex before marriage," Mary said, making them both laugh even more. "Anyway, I'm good; fine about that. I just... I guess I needed a laugh. With you..."

_"I miss you."_

Mary's tears returned. "God, I miss you too. It hurt, not seeing you _all day_ since breakfast and I couldn't wait to hear from you or see you."

_"I can't come."_

"I know," she whispered sadly before grinning. "Wait, I hope you can. Otherwise, that would defeat the purpose of having children. And you know, we need an heir and a few more to spare."

_"Mary, fuck-okay, I walked into that one," _Francis said, chuckling. _"Stay away from Kenna, please. She's turning you into such an explicit woman."_

Mary chuckled. "I can't. She found this sex book at Fontainebleau and after dinner with Bash's mother, she read us it. Whoever this woman is has had a lot of men in her bed! Like, I even believe that Stephane Narcisse was one of the men she spoke about. Butterfly tattoo on the wrist and all."

_"Dear God,"_ Francis muttered. _"Do you mind if us men took a look-"_

"Are you one of the men on there?"

_"No..."_

"Francis..." Mary trailed off warningly.

_"Bash and Julien are..."_ Francis trailed off, his voice getting higher. _"We wouldn't want Kenna to know or anything. Thank God, she didn't put names down."_

Mary gasped. "Which ones are they?"

_"Oh, God,"_ Francis mumbled._ "Uh, Bash is the one who... made her... you know, e-eight times."_

Mary screamed, eyes wide in shock and disbelief. "No! She said he was the best! Oh my God. I wonder how Kenna will feel knowing that."

_"Don't-"_

"Tell Kenna, I know!" Mary said, but she knew she couldn't break girl code. The man was marrying her best friend! "Jesus, Bash! I'm kind of scared to know Julien's chapter."

Francis almost choked. _"Julien took her in the offices of one of the chapels."_

"What?!"

_"I sincerely hope you are alone because you're screaming a lot, and I feel for myself and anyone who is there,"_ Francis stated.

"You're telling me shocking truths!" She retorted. "Eight times with Bash and a chapel hook up with Julien? Who is she?"

_"No one,"_ Francis quickly said.

Mary sighed. "Now, I know you're definitely on there," she said warily.

_"Leith and Remy escaped her clutches but... yes, I am on there. But not for sex. For the romanticised bit."_

"Which one, there are three of those bits?" Mary quietly asked, not sure if she really wanted to know or not.

_"The boyfriend,"_ Francis whispered. _"She had started this before we got together and... I found out she had been with my brother and my friend, and we split up because of it."_

"Understandable," Mary said. "She was cheating on you?"

Francis cleared his throat. _"Well, not really. She had these relationships before we got together and when we were together, she never pursued another man. But then I found out about the book and well, we ended things and she continued her sexcapades and then went back to her native country with her father. He was one of the Lords in Parliament. He's retired now."_

"Who was she?"

_"Olivia. Olivia D'Amencourt."_

Mary gasped. "Catherine's best friend's daughter?"

_"Y-You know about her?"_

"Margaret told me about her today. I wasn't sure if it was just general knowledge regarding the people I might see tomorrow but she is your ex-girlfriend, Francis! And she is coming to _our_ wedding?"

Francis sighed heavily. _"I know. I tried to not invite her but-"_

"Do you still love her?"

_"God, no!"_ Francis cried out. _"I told you we ended things badly. Do you seriously think I'd pursue a relationship with someone who said my older brother was her best lover? Mary, who do you take me for?"_

"I'm sorry," she whispered. "I know. I trust you. I wish you could have said-"

_"Would you have told me about your former boyfriends?"_

"Yes, but-"

_"'But' what?"_

"I... I never was with anyone else. Francis, I was waiting for you," she admitted, blushing furiously. "I'd dream about us and I didn't have time for other guys. Not when what we had was special and exciting. So I studied hard, dedicated myself to learning and becoming a knowledgable and loyal queen for you. I wanted to be perfect for you."

Francis gasped softly. _"Mary, I-I-I don't know what to say."_

"It's fine." She sighed. "I've kissed a few guys, but never pursued relationships or had sex with them. I was a virgin until you took my virginity."

_"I don't mean to hurt you when I say this-"_

"You are a man, I can see where this is going," she snapped before she shook her head. "I'm fine with it. We're adults. Consenting and everything. I knew you weren't when we had our first time with each other. Remember that?"

_"We were so scared that I'd got you pregnant because-"_

"We didn't use protection," Mary whispered. "But my forgetful mind remembered that I was on the pill and had been for about two months back then."

They laughed and Mary couldn't believe that they were only seventeen back then. Not knowing of the drama to unfold now. He must have got with Olivia shortly after she returned to Scotland.

_"Mary, I really am sorry for not being a virgin when we got together and for being with Olivia for a long time,"_ he said softly.

"I can't blame you," she replied. "We'd been engaged even before we ever existed. Francis, I can't fault you for being with other women before you were tied down to me for the rest of your life."

_"I won't be tied down to you. I love you so much, I am grateful that you're going to be my wife and I'll be your husband. Otherwise, we would have let this engagement drag on for even longer."_

Mary swallowed deeply. "Promise me you won't be like your dad."

_"I promise,"_ Francis said earnestly._ "You're the only woman I want. I could ever want. And yes, you are perfect for me, even with your imperfections. I have to go now."_ He stayed silent for a bit before Mary could hear a conversation occur away from the phone. _"I guess Bash is desperate to talk to Kenna."_

Mary chuckled softly. "Tomorrow then."

_"Tomorrow."_ He took a pause. _"Tomorrow will be the start of our lives, my love."_

Mary smiled.


	8. A Wedding To Remember

**Replies to reviews:**

**BlerBlerBler [chapter 7]: Yeah, they definitely needed reassurance on both sides. And here's the chapter!**

****elder441 [chapter 7]: He is ;) He doesn't want to start their marriage off on secrets and lies and that is good, especially as future reigning monarchs. He is definitely different than Henry and his two queens. As for Olivia, she won't mess with Frary but she does have her eyes on a former flame of hers.****

* * *

"You look beautiful," Marie breathed out, circling her daughter who stood on a pedestal, surrounded by mirrors. "I chose well?"

Mary beamed. "You chose well," she whispered, tears springing to her eyes. "I was terrified."

"I know. It was the same for me," Marie replied. "Only, I hated my dress."

Mary chuckled softly and turned to admire her exposed back. It was only to the middle of her back, with pearl buttons leading down to the hips and the skirt in an A-Line shape. Her arms were adorned with flowered laced and small Swarovski diamonds. On top of her wavy raven locks was the Marie-Antoinette tiara, Henry very pleased to allow her to wear it on her special day. Whatever Marie of Clan Stuart wanted, she got. Attached to the tiara was a long veil that had been worn by her mother at her wedding to her father.

It was something old.

"Something borrowed," Marie said, coming to stand in front of her daughter and offer her the jewellery from the vaults. "And something blue."

Mary smiled. "Thank you. Can you help me put it on?"

"Of course," Marie said, tears clogging up her throat as she helped clasp the necklace around Mary's neck before helping her put the bracelet on and the ring on the middle finger on the right hand. Then she finally put the earrings on. "Obviously your dress is something new."

Mary chuckled softly. "Yes. It's stunning. Thank you."

Marie beamed, squeezing her daughter's hands. "Shall I call your bridesmaids inside before the First Look?"

"Please," Mary breathed out, smoothing down the skirt of her dress. It was a lovely pearl white. Pure would have been too much for her to bear. Perhaps she should confess before the wedding but something told her that she wouldn't be able to confess such a thing to a Roman Catholic man who was officiating her wedding to the future Roi des Français.

"Oh my God," Greer whispered when the three women entered in their own blue dresses. They wore long-sleeved, v-necked dresses in the shade of dark blue, like the blue on the French flag.

"Mary, you're stunningly beautiful!" Kenna told her.

Mary blushed. "More?"

"Gorgeous," Lola said, making them laugh.

"This is honestly a wish come true," Mary said. "My dream..."

Kenna beamed happily. "I am glad. Are you ready for the First Look? To get rid of any tears and nervous jitters."

Mary nodded. "I am. But Kenna, can we talk first?"

"Of course," Kenna said with a smile. "Ladies, I'll be right out."

Lola and Greer left and Kenna helped Mary get off the pedestal. The bride led her friend over to the chaise and they sat down, Mary taking a deep breath in before she released it and turned to Kenna.

"There's something I need to tell you about the book you found," Mary told her.

"What is it?" Kenna asked. "Is it to stop reading it? I promise I will after I find out who all those mysterious men are! I bet some are dead and she-"

"Bash is the best lover!" Mary quickly said, blushing furiously.

Kenna froze. "What?"

"Bash... He's the one who made-"

"I know, I heard you," Kenna replied, bowing her head. "I see."

"You had to know-"

"I did. I mean, I can't complain... I did sleep with his father," Kenna mumbled, looking down at her engagement ring. "I don't need to know about his past lovers or anything, but... I mean, he was the only one she gave full marks to. And he was hesitant to sleep with me since I told him about Henry and me. After he'd had this reputation."

Mary nodded. "I'm not too happy about it, either."

"Why? Is Francis on there?"

"He's the boyfriend."

"Oh my God," Kenna breathed out. "I'm so sorry. That is worse, I guess."

Mary shrugged. "I don't know. She's going to be at the wedding."

"Is it Olivia?" Kenna asked her.

"Yes. The one Margaret was talking about."

Kenna nodded, feeling the urge to throw up. "I better burn that book then."

"Don't use this against Bash-"

"As I said, I've slept with his father. We need to forget the past and think about our future," Kenna replied, taking Mary's hands. "Both of us. Including you and Francis. We're happy now, we're going to be _family_ again."

Mary giggled. "Sisters-in-law and cousins? Jesus, I can't get enough of you."

Kenna smiled. "Same. Come on, let's do that First Look."

...

"I hear you," Francis said. "Can I turn around now?"

Mary giggled. "No," she said, walking up to him. She wrapped her arms around his waist and inhaled his scent. "God, you smell amazing."

"So do you," he replied easily.

"I'm wearing over forty pounds of dress," she told him. "I hope to God our child weighs less inside me when we get pregnant."

Francis grinned. "I hope very soon. A beautiful daughter with my hair and your eyes."

"Or a handsome son with my hair and your eyes."

"Either way, I'd be the happiest man alive," Francis said. "Can I turn around now, love?"

Mary backed away and turned him around by his shoulders. "Voila."

Francis gasped, taking her in. He looked her up and down as tears sprung to his eyes and he held a fist to his mouth. "Mon Dieu."

"Francis?"

"Mon Dieu," he repeated, looking into her brown eyes. "You look so beautiful, Mary. I-I don't know what I did to deserve you, this, everything-"

Mary quickly hugged him tightly as he burst into sobs. It made her laugh. "I didn't know you'll get all emotional on me!"

"I'm sorry," he said. "I'm ruining my suit. It's bloody white and I'm being stupid." He pulled away, accepting a tissue from Marie. "Thank you, Duchess."

Marie smiled. "Your father was the same with me, Mary," she told her daughter. "Surprisingly, I held my tears in and he cried all day."

Mary laughed, cupping Francis's cheek and using her other hand to wipe his tears away. "I love you, you idiot."

"Oh, Mary," Francis replied in awe. "But if you're going to be a full French, it's 'imbécile'."

She smacked him. "We better dry your tears. The prayer session will start soon."

She backed away from him and watched as his eyes lovingly remained on her as the royal dressmakers adorned him with a gold and diamond-covered habit of the Order of the Holy Spirit.

Then Narcisse appeared and bowed low to the couple between them before linking his arms with them and walking them into the chapel followed by Henry and Francis's siblings, including Bash who was behind his father and Catherine who was behind Louis, the youngest with Marie beside her.

The prayer session was strictly private but the formal ceremony would be full of diplomats, celebrities and other people who were invited to see the nuptials, including close family friends from Scotland in the form of godparents and friendly aunts and uncles through friendship as opposed to marriage or blood. Not even their groomsmen or bridesmaids were allowed and Mary would leave through a secret door to meet them in another room as the chapel filled with eager spectators later on along with a select few of reporters with a live television feed across the world.

Narcisse led them to the Archbishop before he bowed low again and left their sides to go to the end of the chapel to wait.

They knelt before the altar on Prie-Dieus, where the Archbishop prayed over them, and the King and the Royal Family flanked them on their Prie-Dieus. The Archbishop revealed three rings. One thin gold band and another one which was slightly thicker. The last one was for Francis for the spectated ceremony.

When told to, Francis shakily placed the thin ring onto Mary's delicate ring finger, above her engagement ring. His eyes sparkled with tears and Mary reached out to wipe them away much to everyone's amusement. Even Elisabeth's who had her bluish-green hair hidden with a fancy party hat.

The Archbishop turned and collected the registers. He directed the couple to sign under their names: François Simon Léon & Marie Josephine Rebecca of Houses Valois-Angoulême, de Medici & Stuart and de Guise respectively.

After, the Archbishop said more prayers before using Holy Water to form the cross on the couple's foreheads. When he was done, he nodded and asked them to rise.

"My back was stiffening," Francis said lowly into Mary's ear, making her smile as her mother and Narcisse pulled her away to join their Bridal Party. More time for inside jokes later. She noted that Bash followed with the rest of the siblings.

"How was it?" Lola asked her once she stepped into the room.

Mary made a face. "Very relaxing. The Archibishop's voice was very calming and he blessed us, our marriage, our fertility and also we signed the registers and had one ring," she began, holding up her hand to show off her first new ring. "Put on before everything else. So, we're married formally but haven't kissed or shown everyone else yet."

"Congratulations," Greer said, squeezing her hand before giving her her bouquet of flowers. "Good luck, Marvellous Mary."

"Go on," Mary said, her voice wavering.

"Magnificent Mary," Lola said.

Mary turned to Kenna who tore her eyes off Bash to smile at her beloved friend. "And?"

"Majestic Mary."

"Is this some confidence boost for the pretty, little future princess?" Elisabeth sniped.

Mary chuckled, turning to her. "You are so lucky I am in a state of tranquillity on my wedding day. I do not have time for your pettiness nor jealousy. I am sure Mummy and Daddy can pay for your future wedding if you ask nicely. Wouldn't want the hard-working French taxpayers to fund a spiteful, spoilt princess like you. Although I will be queen one day, at least my Father had a role and paid for all of this even though he's dead."

Everyone gaped, even Marie.

"Then again, I am feeling very happy today so I hope you enjoy the day yourself," Mary told her. "And find a suitor while you are at it."

Elisabeth turned and walked away, stunned as Margaret grinned to herself. Mary caught that grin and sent the younger woman a quick wink before turning back to her friends.

"Confidence boost, commence."

...

After the ceremony was done and Mary and Francis tearfully got through their official vows and personal ones in French, the rest of the ceremony was in Latin before the Archbishop announced, "The Dauphin and Dauphine des Français."

Everyone applauded, standing up.

"Vous pouvez embrasser la mariée."

Francis didn't waste any time pressing his lips against Mary's. To them, it felt like forever but it was only a five-second kiss before the flushed couple, turned to everyone who applauded even louder.

Another prayer was said before the couple headed down the aisle behind their Bridal Party. When they stepped outside, Mary was surprised to see the number of people behind the gates, all screaming their names and cheering the newlyweds on.

She waved politely, beaming as Francis did the same. He turned to her and she blushed as their lips met for the public, rice being thrown onto them as Henry and Catherine joined them beside Francis and Marie and Christian joined Mary's other side.

When they pulled away, they waved again before a vintage white car pulled up and Narcisse got out, coming up to hand Francis the keys. "Bonne chance," he told the couple. "The Repas de Noces will be held at the Royal Opera House here you will be separated to get changed into new attire. Follow the horses and police."

Francis patted the man's back before opening the door for his new bride to get inside. He laughed with everyone when he struggled to get her train inside before letting it flow onto the backseats and getting into the car himself as his parents got into the Royal Carriage behind them.

It was quite the affair and before they reached the opening gates, Francis and Mary had a chance to speak.

"Oh, God," she muttered. "I have never felt so nervous in my life."

"Et moi," Francis breathed out. "My cheeks hurt. I am so happy."

She chuckled. "So am I."

Just as they reached the gates, a royal announcer said, "Présentation, le Duc et la Duchesse d'Anjou."

Mary waved happily as Francis used one hand to steer the wheel, his other hand waving to the public. He was used to this and he was surprised to see his new wife take it in her stride.

She reached out and collected a beautifully drawn picture from a child who burst into happy tears in her father's arms, the man very grateful for the attention his child got from the new French Princess. Mary blew kisses and put the picture into the compartment in front of her.

"Marie! Marie, over here!"

Mary beamed for the reporters and their camera people, hearing news reporters do their stories live from all the action. She made sure to catch most of their eyes to make them know that she acknowledged them. She thanked them before looking straight, her free hand taking Francis's free hand.

"J'adore."

"Your French is improving," her husband said lightly.

"You forget that I am half-French and do understand as opposed to speaking sometimes," she replied coyly.

Francis chuckled. "I apologise, Reine de la mienne."

"Stop, you'll make me blush and then cry and we'll have a sob story on our hands," Mary replied, giggling. "And yes, I am your queen."

...

There was no food in the first part of the reception. There was a two-hour musical performance from the best musicians in the world. Then an opera performance for thirty minutes before a fifteen-minute theatre play. Finally, a ball where the couple had their first dance for the day. Their Bridal Party joined in and Mary believed, at one point, the King asked the Queen for a dance but was politely declined privately before they remained as they were in their seats.

By half three, le vin d'honneur began and Mary and Francis were relieved to finally have a drink and check on their friends. They had later learned that their Bridal Party had snuck out for some flask drinks and cigarettes between the theatre play and ball dancing.

"Seriously?" Francis asked his brother and friends, amused.

"We'd been in there for almost three hours," Bash explained to the newlyweds. "I think we deserved a break considering we've not eaten all day."

"Here I thought military men and equestrians were _strong_," Mary said lightly.

Leith gasped. "Dauphine! I resent your insinuation, Ma'am."

"Do shut up," Greer told him. "Over-dramatic."

"He resents that," Remy spoke on his behalf, making them laugh. "It was beautiful, everything. I had tears in my eyes."

Julien held a hand to his mouth. "I've never been so proud of you, Valois."

"He's married, not dead, Varga," Bash told them. "Keep your tears."

"You cried."

"I did no such thing, Comte."

Lola nodded. "I saw you ask Remy for tissues as the four of you burst into sobs. Jesus, keep it together gentlemen. And _we_ push out the babies."

Mary laughed. "Lola, behave. I do like an emotional man and so do you lot," she said, pointing at her girls. "Thank God this part is three hours long. And we have more after everything."

"Small mercies," they all said before downing their drinks and calling for more.

After the cocktail hours, came the food.

By then, everyone was hungry. It was seven on the dot and waiters lifted the covers off the dishes as everyone swooned and awed over the meals they had. It was each catered to every guest, vegan to pescatarian and vegetarian. Modern days, modern eating habits.

After dinner, Mary and Francis were presented with the traditional French wedding 'cake', the croquembouche. There was another ten-tier cake for the guests to have cut and eaten but this croquembouche was the main attraction at six-feet tall. It was just a pyramid of caramel-covered profiteroles.

Laughter was met during this as Mary and Francis more or less smashed their profiteroles onto the other's face. Francis closed his eyes, unable to contain his laughter as Mary got it all on his face.

They don't think that they had even tasted the poor thing but they did one properly and they both took a bite from the same profiterole before Mary smashed that onto the Dauphin's face as well.

"More!" Louis said, making his older brother gasp.

"More?" Mary asked their guests.

"More!" They said.

Francis shook his head but accepted the next smashed profiterole. "Great."

"At least we change again," Mary said brightly.

When the profiteroles were shared amongst the guests, the cake to be taken home for afters, a quick Sabrage performance was performed where the happy couple partook in drinking more alcohol. This time, champagne.

Then after getting dressed into another dress, a lighter one this time and a lighter suit, the guests and Royal Family were led outside to watch the fireworks display. The Father/Daughter Dance after was cancelled because there was no father for the bride.

Mary had considered one of her uncles but thought against it. So that meant that the Son/Mother Dance was cancelled as well as to not upset Mary on her special day. But the throwing of the bouquet was done and Kenna caught it without even moving. It just landed in her hands and she handed it to Lola instead, saying that the honour was nice but not for her. It confused Bash but she didn't say anything, merely watching Olivia converse with her family.

After the bouquet throw, it was time for the toasts.

And the night ended with Francis saying, "Mary and I have been destined to be with each other for our whole lives. Being with her is a dream come true and I know that one day, we will be the heart and soul of France. There is no one else but her and Mary? I will love you forever and I want to toast to you for choosing me." He raised his flute. "To Marie Josphine, the Dauphine of France."

"To Marie Josephine!"

...

"We really ought to sleep," Mary said when they entered the Queen's State Apartments early the next morning. "We leave for our honeymoon tour at eight. And it's two now."

Francis helped her take the jewellery off, putting them in its case. He took her ring hand and kissed her hand, admiring her newly made engagement rock replica as they had to return the real version.

"Shouldn't we consummate this?" He asked her, helping her out of her dress and putting it in a garment bag.

Mary waited until he turned around to fully take her in. "Oh, I intend to consummate this marriage. To the fullest."

Francis turned around and gasped. "Jesus," he muttered, his eyes darkening in lust as he looked her white lingerie up and down. "You're so beautiful."

"I am not beautiful every day?" She teased him.

"You know what I mean," he said, walking up to her and placing his hands on her hips. "You put all the other women to shame."

"Flatterer," she whispered before kissing him deeply, her arms wounding around his neck.

They pulled apart and Mary helped him take his trousers off as he worked on his shirt and bowtie. He almost tore the items of clothing off, desperate for his body to mould with hers.

"No one should be surprised when we come out with a baby in nine months," he said lightly, dropping his clothes onto the floor and cupping her cheeks to kiss her again.

"Be careful," she said against his lips. "Wouldn't want to jinx anything, darling."

"Not at all," he replied, kissing her chin, neck and collarbone. "I need you in that bed. Right now."

Mary giggled. "Aren't we lucky that the Archbishop blessed the bed before we came?"

"We are, indeed," he said softly before gasping and pulling away. "I forgot! I got you something."

"Francis?" Mary asked, blushing. "What is it?"

Francis blushed himself. "It's silly," he said, retrieving the item. "Take the box."

Mary smiled widely, opening it with a gasp.

...

_Fifteen Years Ago_

Mary shyly looked up, holding her hand up to the man who stood in front of her. She saw him smile, his hand connecting with hers softly as he placed a kiss on the back of it and stepped back, taking the hand of a small blonde boy.

"Francis, one day, you and this little girl will be married. That means that you will spend your life with her and she will be your queen," the man explained.

Francis looked up at his father. "What is her name?"

"Why don't you ask her yourself?" Henry asked with a soft chuckle.

Francis nodded and turned to Mary. "What is your name?"

Mary smiled. "Mary. I am Marchioness Mary Josephine Rebecca Stuart. My father was Scottish and my mother," she said, looking up at her mother. "Is French, like you."

"Mary's uncle, Christian de Guise is on my council," Henry told his son. "And her father was a dear friend of mine. Along with the Duchess de Moray, her mother Marie de Guise."

Francis nodded. "Will I see her a lot?"

"Yes," her mother said. "And we will have contact between both of you. Under observation, of course. This marriage will be a good thing. For you both, for France and for relations with Scotland. Who knows what political issues will come up in the future?"

Francis nor Mary understood that but they turned to each other, smiles on their faces. Francis couldn't deny that she was pretty, her raven locks and brown eyes. He looked down at the pinned rose on his collar and he took it off, offering it to her.

"I will ask for that back one day," he told her, making their respective parent swoon.

"Thank you," Mary said softly. "I can't wait until that day."

...

_Present Day_

Mary brushed her thumb over the rose pin in her fingers with a bright smile. She hadn't even known she had been missing it. "How...?"

"When you came to visit the last time," he said. "I noticed that it was broken a bit so I had it fixed but then we didn't see each other until now-"

He was silenced with a kiss and Mary beamed happily.

"God, Francis... Thank you!"

"Now, can I have it back?" He asked, making them laugh. "No, you can keep it. We're married now, it's not like I won't have 'custody' of it or anything."

Mary hugged him tightly. "That is so sweet. I will wear it for our press photos as we go to our honeymoon tour," she told him proudly. "Thank you. Oh my God, I feel like sobbing now."

"Why?"

"I didn't get you anything."

"Don't be silly. You remembered this and that is enough-"

"That's a lie," she said, grinning. "I got you a locket." She went over to her dresser and returned with the silver locket. "Our baby pictures are in it. It's silly, I know."

Francis scoffed. "Not at all!" He told her, putting it on and opening it up to see his baby self and her baby self inside. "It's amazing, thanks. We should _sleep._"

"I catch your drift," Mary said, giggling when he lifted her into his arms and kissed her hard. "I love you."

"I love you too, Beautiful," Francis breathed out in awe before placing her down onto the bed and kissing her again. He trailed his kisses down to her stomach. "I hope we get lucky tonight."

Mary bit her lip and nodded. "I hope we do too, Handsome."

...

Kenna entered her room from her balcony and jumped when she saw Bash sitting on her bed. He gave her a look and she returned it, closing the doors and shivering when the cool hit her arms again after being in the warmth for a short while.

"You've been off with me."

Kenna frowned. "Have I?"

"Yes, mon chéri," Bash replied, getting up to meet her. "What is it, Kenna?" He asked her, brushing her hair from her face.

Kenna swallowed deeply. "I can't marry you," she whispered, shaking her head. "You were right. We're doing this too quickly and now that it is after the wedding... I've told my parents that I will be joining them in going to Scotland in the afternoon."

"What? Why?"

"Olivia," Kenna breathed out shakily before clearing her throat. "Olivia."

Bash frowned. "What has Francis's ex-girlfriend got to-"

"You slept with her," Kenna stated.

Bash laughed. "God, Kenna. You're no saint either, Comtessa," he told her, amused. "Yes, I did sleep with her, _once_. It was years ago and I was quite the womaniser if I do say so myself. But you knew that! Why do you think I was on that app in the first place?"

Kenna glared at him. "It isn't funny."

He stopped laughing and his smile disappeared. "What is this really about?"

She went over to her bedside table and retrieved a book. She turned and held it up and his eyes widened. "So, you recognise this book?"

"I do," he said honestly.

"Everyone but you got variable results. You were the only man to get ten out of ten," Kenna whispered, her eyes watering. "You were willing to make her... _eight_ times, Bash. God..."

Bash sighed. "I don't know what you want me to say."

"You say that shit a lot," Kenna told him, dumping the book on the bed and crossing her arms. "I am not hurt by that bullshit book nor that blonde bitch. I am hurt because when I was literally throwing myself at you, and you _rejected_ me. Multiple times as well and out of nowhere, you propose to me and offer to save my back by sacrificing your own and... you do all this without feeling anything for me. You said it yourself, you don't really believe in love so I know, that this isn't real. On your part, at least."

"I meant what I said about love, Kenna," Bash replied indifferently. "I want something real, I really do and you're right. It doesn't need to be love but it has to be real and it has to be true. I'm sorry if you think that I am confusing, and that is true. I am confusing. But you're not my first serious relationship. Nor was Rowan. I've had longer relationships than what we have now and all they ended up in was heartbreak. Not for me, for them. Because I am so emotionally stunted, I couldn't give them what they wanted from our relationship."

Kenna wrung her hands. "What should we do then?"

"Get to know each other, as I said. Drag this engagement for as long as possible-"

"To the point when it's not even worth it anymore?"

"To the point when we're not accusing each other of being whores indirectly, Kenna," Bash snapped, pointing to the damned book.

Kenna nodded. "I'm sorry."

"I'm sorry too," he replied softly. "I didn't mean to snap at you-"

"I do love you, Bash," she cut him off. "I can't keep playing games or going around in circles when I know what is in my heart. _You_. It's insane, I know; how quickly I fell for you, but I did."

Bash sighed. "I understand that and-"

"You're never going to say those words to me," she whispered sadly. "Or otherwise, I'd hear them sixty or seventy years into our marriage, before you die or something."

Bash's eyes widened. "You see us in seventy years?"

"Yes, of course, I do!" Kenna cried out incredulously. "I've just told you that I love you. I love you and everything that stands for you. If I remember clearly, you pursued _me_ not the other way around. You even told your friends that I had a tattoo of a purple rose on my bum cheek. Who does that? Talk about one night with a woman and with all the details involved?"

"Alright," Bash mumbled. "I guess I do want something more than phone sex and our first time with each other."

Kenna's eyes flickered onto him warily before they went on the ground. "I'm listening..."

"I don't want to wake up alone," Bash continued. "Or have my friends to be the only ones who come to my events. I want a wife, a partner for life. I want children, to tuck into bed and sing to as well as teach them what I know. And I want you. I want you to be through it all with me."

"Prove it."

He didn't make an effort to move.

"And we go around in circles again," she said, scoffing. "You always say words that hold no meaning-"

She yelped being pushed back onto the bed, his lips on hers before she knew it. She cupped his cheeks, feeling him unzip her bridesmaid dress as she kicked her heels off. Her hands found his shirt and she began undoing the buttons, almost ripping the material from his ripped chest when she was done.

He pulled away. "Just be patient, please," he begged her, tears springing to his eyes. "I want this. I want to try."

She wiped his tears that started to fall. "Why are you so guarded?"

"You know why," he said, strained. "I'm sorry about Olivia. In all honesty, that book was just a bit of fun to her. It never meant anything to me. Just one lonely Valentine's party I hosted in 2017 and I felt sick afterwards. I don't even know why because it wasn't as if I was a taken man. But I realised that I was just another one for the list, another one to be judged and gossiped about."

"It doesn't matter. She doesn't matter," Kenna told him, staring into his eyes. She removed her last item of clothing and kissed him hard. "Let me in."

Bash nodded, transfixed by her beauty. "I will let you in," he whispered, kissing her.

...

That morning, Mary and Francis arrived at the private airstrip. They had just come from Chateau de Fontainebleau to greet Henry and Catherine and bid them and everyone else 'goodbye' for now. A whole month to celebrate themselves, they deserved it.

The reception they received was positive and they waved at the crowds and smiled for the cameras. Michel and Fabian led the way to the bottom of the stairs of the jet.

Mary and Francis posed for more pictures, kissed once for the crowd and reporters, and headed up the stairs behind Michel as Fabian followed after. The second they sat down, seated before each other, they sighed in relief.

"My cheeks haven't stopped hurting since yesterday," Francis said, rubbing them as he stretched out his jaw.

Mary giggled, accepting a champagne flute from their royal aide-de-camp. "Thank you," she said to her before turning to her new husband. "Well, to happiness."

"To happiness," Francis replied, raising his own flute before clinking it with hers and drinking from it.

Mary's phone beeped and she placed her flute on the table and retrieved it from her purse. She opened up her WhatsApp chat and beamed happily, shaking her head in slight disbelief at the new message. It was a new phone, Francis having access to his own phone so they could contact whoever they needed to contact within means.

The first thing she had done was created a group chat and she gestured for her husband to check his own phone.

{**Kenna**: Bonjour les amis! Bash and I have just spoken to both Henry and Diane as well as my own parents, and we have set a date for the wedding. The public announcement will come the week before Francis and Mary return home to France.}

{**Mary**: Congratulations, both of you! Many blessings and love to you. We have just got onto the jet. It will leave soon for the UK.}

{**Greer**: Congrats, darlings! As Mary said, many blessings and love your way. And have a safe journey, M&F.}

{**Leith**: Most important thing - will it have a lot of alcohol like yesterday?}

{**Julien**: Indeed, need to know ASAP to see if it's worth coming to, haha. Even if I am a potential groomsman, I hope.}

{**Bash**: Why do you even ask? It's like you don't know me. And yes, gentlemen you will be my groomsmen, it does not need to be said.}

{**Remy**: Knew we could trust you, de Poitiers. Safe journey, Dauphin et Dauphine. Do not forget the souvenirs for your most loyal and devoted friends and number one fans.}

{**Francis**: Got our aide on it. And thank you for the journey wishes. Also, congratulations brother. It's an honour to be your first choice in best man, I hope.}

{**Bash**: Thank you, Francis, and yes, you are my first choice. And thank you to everyone else for your words.}

{**Lola**: Just woke up again. Still tired. Greer and I will be going back to Scotland today for the meantime until the week before M&F return. Missing our families so this is the perfect chance to go.}

{**Mary**: Safe journey, loves. Send them my love again, we didn't have long to greet each other yesterday with all the other guests and Henry introducing me to extended family. Oh, and if you can, help the Beatons by bringing Stirling along when you return to France. Merci beaucoup.}

{**Greer**: Will do, darling. Kenna and Bash, when is the special day if you don't mind letting us in?}

{**Bash**: 24th décembre. We have plans to spend Christmas at France, leave on Boxing Day to spend New Year's with the Beatons before we have four weeks off and return to royal duties by the first of February.}

{**Kenna**: We want it to be a private affair. Close family and friends only, less grandiose than yesterday was. Intimate and warm with a bohemian, homey theme. Mary, you and I will be looking at materials and inspiration at Grandes Boulevard with Greer and Lola.}

"Your Highnesses, the jet is about to leave," Michel said.

Mary nodded. "Thank you," she said as her husband nodded his reply.

{**Mary**: Definitely, lovely. Can't wait. Dauphin and I have to go. Love you all lots!}

{**Francis**: Wish us luck. Adieu and je vous aime tous.}

Everyone bid their farewells and sent their loves before they put their mobiles on airplane mode and continued to sip their drinks. They smiled at each other and turned to Michel who gave them the low down on where they were going and how long it would take. Their aide took over and explained what they would do as soon as they arrive as well as the charities and political places they would visit. Before coming, they had seen the Prime Minister at the chateau and he and his wife wished them well as well as other formalities. After, they met with the mayors and other people of politics in France. It was to ease Mary into her future role as Queen Consort and current role as Dauphine.

The first stop was Mary's home turf. The United Kingdom to meet the Prime Minister and Royal Family of England.

...

The week in England, and Scotland briefly, was tiring. Mary's feet hurt every single day and she couldn't wait to relax and spend the next week with her feet up before they had to attend Canada for other political reasons in the following week. As Canada had ties to France, Canada was an important stop. The French lost any claim to Canada in 1763 when it signed the Treaty of Paris but their Canadian cousins were still important and Mary was surprised to learn ahead that they had a huge fanbase in the country.

They had set up social media profiles. Mary and Francis had their separate ones and a joined one with links to the Chateau de Fontainebleau's official social media accounts. It was exciting, seeing their followers grow from hundreds to thousands to millions. It kept growing and they had gained followers in the British Royal Family following their visit.

"A week in Hawaii," Francis said when they were in the air on their jet. "That is my gift honeymoon to you."

Mary blushed. "Oh, babe," she cooed. "Thank you." It felt natural calling him that at times and their royal staff smiled knowingly whenever they had a tender, 'private' moment. Earlier, they waited in the airstrip in Scotland and everyone, including the pilot, left the jet to allow them some private time. It was for an hour, their employees falsely telling the public that there were issues with one of the engines and the couple had remained in the jet for protection with a 'third' bodyguard.

"We'll get there by six in the evening, their time," their aide said, glancing down at her tablet. "Your fanbase is still increasing."

"That's good," Mary said. "Considering they hated me."

"My _mother_ hated you," Francis replied, taking the tablet. "Since she's stepped back, Monsieur Samuel Nostradamus has conveniently posted only positive stories about you and our friends."

Mary raised an eyebrow. "Really?"

"He's done a complete 360," their aide, Angelica, confirmed. "Shall I retrieve a background check on him?"

"If Michel doesn't mind," Francis told her, before waving the flight attendant over. "If you will serve us some tea, please."

"Would you like shortbread with your tea?"

"Please," Mary said, watching her go before turning back to Angelica. "And if you will also schedule an interview with him. I would like to understand why such stories were posted in the beginning and _how_ he had such intimate photos. Catherine won't tell us her sources so we must investigate ourselves."

Angelica nodded. "Yes, Ma'am," she said, leaving the cabin to join the other employees.

Mary reached over and took Francis's hand, squeezing it. "You know Clarissa?" She asked.

Francis froze. "She's a friend of mine," he admitted. "She wasn't allowed to be but she found me crying one day when I was missing you and the long-distance was getting too much and she was there for me. She didn't know me, didn't treat me like I was a spoilt, little prince. She just sat down with me and made me smile, I guess. She's like an older sister since then. Always telling me what the girls are up to behind my back and we played football with the boys frequently."

_If only you knew_, Mary thought, smiling softly.

"What about her?"

"I met her," Mary said. "She seemed lovely and approving."

Francis grinned. "I think she's just relieved that I won't be sobbing on her shoulder because now, I have you again. I was planning on setting her up with someone but she seemed to be against it. I've tried to offer support groups and other help to her, but she's happy. My mother has her on the lower level of staff. She is above a maid, but she's never seen nor heard in the chateau."

"I see," Mary said, mentally cursing Catherine.

"It's because she was the daughter of some dead Navy admiral," Francis continued. "He and my mother were good friends so she helped by getting Clarissa a job."

"That's nice," Mary said. "I'd like to get to know her better."

"Really?"

"Of course," Mary replied. "And maybe invite her to hang out with the rest of us."

Francis sighed. "That's risky-"

"No, it is not. She's an important man's daughter and she seems like she could do with some friends. She's great and we will hang out in Bash and Kenna's new home. It's secluded so no cameras are able to get through and any drones will be shot on sight."

"Alright," Francis agreed. "I will ask her when we return."

"Good," Mary said with a bright smile as the flight attendant returned with their teas and shortbread. "The Dauphin and I need a few minutes to ourselves if you don't mind?"

The flight attendant shook her head. "Not at all," she replied. "Do call if you need my services."

When she left, Mary turned back to Francis. "I don't know about you, but earlier wasn't enough to sate my needs."

Francis chuckled. "Well, every round is one step closer to having a little you or me."

Mary blushed. "We'll have to be quiet," she told him, getting up.

"Can't promise anything, my love," Francis said, standing to bring her into his arms. "Either way, I want you to be _very clear_ how much I satisfy you."

"Oh darling, I will be clear. _Very_ clear," Mary whispered, kissing him as her arms wrapped around his neck.


	9. Honeymoon Loving

**So in this chapter, we have sweet Frary moments and a little surprise at the end of the chapter. Also, one person is trying to get another in deep trouble. Frary will be coming home in the next chapter.**

* * *

Bash narrowed his eyes suspiciously as he stepped through the front doors of his home of over twenty-three years. As his mother and older siblings left the nest, he'd made it more masculine, blacks and whites and expensive abstract arts on the walls but now, there were feminine touches of maroons and gold and Bash knew exactly what was going on.

"Where's the Archduchess?" He asked his usual female security guard.

"Who says this was her work?"

"I don't understand?"

"Your little future wife came inside like she owned the place, your mother not too far behind her. They had some interior designer follow them everywhere and made changes within the second."

Bash frowned. "What?"

"Good luck, Baron," she said lightly before leaving his side.

Bash sighed heavily, rubbed his face and headed upstairs to his bedroom. Or what he hoped was still his bedroom. He braced himself before the door, opening it to see his clothes and shoes in boxes and people going in and out of the bathroom.

Kenna turned and grinned when she saw him, his mother also turning as his fiancée walked up to him and said, "I helped you organise your clothes and split them into frequent wear and clothes for events. We'll move the event wear into the spare bedroom to make space for my own frequent wear and we're redoing the bathroom."

"You do realise that we won't be living here," Bash told her. "We'll be living in Paris."

Kenna scowled. "I know and that isn't until next year. Also, the bathroom was a mess."

"I love the bathroom!"

"The bathtub was in the middle of the bloody room! Where's the space to sing and dance in the morning, mon amour?" Kenna asked him, going back to Diane. "Better yet, we will have most of our clothes moved to the new house."

Bash was baffled. "Excuse me?"

"What?" His mother asked, fingering the pearls around her neck.

"This is _our_ home, Maman. My future wife cannot just come-"

"I've hated the bathroom," Diane cut him off, turning away from him. "It is nice to have another woman of taste in the family. You men make things so difficult for us."

Bash was about to say something but thought better of it. "I will go back to the FEGA then. Perhaps my female horses have more sanity than my wife and mother."

Kenna grinned, her eyes going to her ring and inspecting it. "I'm your wife now? Don't remember tying the knot so soon!"

"Neither do I!" Diane added, chuckling with Kenna. "Is it Décembre already?

Bash groaned. "Shut up!" He cried out, leaving. He headed downstairs and saw his security guard laughing. "And you shut up too."

...

Bash slowed Luna down and got off, grabbing onto her reins and leading her back inside. When he saw the familiar blonde hair of his former lover, he quickly backtracked but it was too late, she'd seen him and was making her way over.

"So, you _do_ still come!" Olivia said, hitting his arm gently. "I had to ask five people but they never gave you up."

"My privacy is respected here," Bash said, sighing heavily. "Marquise Olivia."

"Duke de Orléans," Olivia said, smirking as she drew a finger down his chest. "What a rise from society. A baron to a duke. What's next? You'll be added to the line of succession?"

Bash rolled his eyes. Hard. "If you'd excuse-"

"I missed you, Bash," Olivia told him with a soft sigh. "What you and I had was way special than what I had with Francis."

"It was only one night. One drunken night," Bash replied indifferently, leading his horse into its stall before dusting his hands off and locking the gate securely.

"But you made me feel _more_ than he could ever make me feel," Olivia said, fake tears starting to build in her blue eyes. "I mean, he didn't even take a second glance my way yesterday."

Bash chuckled bitterly. "No one did," he said. "And wearing _white_ to a wedding. The wedding of a prince and future king, no less, is tacky. Tacky, spiteful and disgusting. You should be ashamed-"

He was pushed against the wooden beam, surprised at Olivia's strength. He eyed her tilt her head to the side, a small smile on her face as she eyed him up and down.

"I've taken Taekwondo classes," she told him. "Helps me get what I want."

Bash shoved her off him and she almost lost her footing if not for him catching her in time. She breathed heavily in his arms, staring up into his eyes as he studied her, trying to work out what her game was exactly.

She never cared for him before, what changed?

Before he could react, she forced his head down and kissed him hungrily. Bash froze with his arm still around her waist and the other one on her upper thigh. It took him a while but he blinked and let go, letting her fall into the manure pit on the ground.

She screamed, looking up at him in horror at what he'd done before her face turned murderous then sweet.

"Oh, care to help me up?"

Bash wiped his lips. "I'm good," he said. "It's where a person like you belongs. In horse shit."

He walked off, wiping his lips hard as he mentally cursed himself.

"Fuck," he hissed.

...

Mary sighed happily, inhaling the sweet warm air of Hawaii. It was just past eight in the evening, and the cool breeze was more than welcome to put out the heat she felt on her body when her _husband_ wrapped his body around her. Her back to his chest, his lips on her neck.

"Do you want to risk a scandal?" Mary asked lightly, turning her head to the side to look at him. "We may be secluded but you know how desperate the media get. Drones and all."

"We could be like Kenna and Bash and shoot them on sight," Francis replied, making them laugh. "_Fore_! And then bang!"

Mary shook her head in amusement, placing her hands over his as she rocked them side to side gently. "Shame it's only for a week."

"Don't worry," Francis told her. "After Canada, we're going to Alaska for a lovely little cabin getaway. We'll be able to see the Aurora Borealis."

"Oh, Francis..." Mary breathed out, shocked. "That sounds _gorgeous_. I've only ever seen them on a screen."

Francis grinned. "Prepare to see them in real life, mon trésor."

"Ma moitié," Mary whispered, closing her eyes when he dug his face into the crook of her neck as they continued to rock. "This will be perfect for the news reports."

He smiled against her skin, his own eyes closed. "Two amoureux going about their honeymoon in peace."

"My mother used to say that after we met. We were five, but she'd say 'look at those lovebirds' every time she stared at our photo as kids," Mary told him. "'Those beautiful amoureux, God protect them'." She fingered his locket over her shoulder. "And he protected us. Otherwise, we wouldn't be here."

"We owe this to God and our fathers."

"If they didn't know each other, we wouldn't be here," Mary whispered softly. "I love you."

"I love you too," he replied. "Want to join me for a relaxed session of lovemaking?"

Mary giggled. "We're hellbent on this baby thing, aren't we?"

"Are you complaining?"

"No," she said, grinning. "But we shouldn't force things. You hear stories."

"I know," Francis replied. "Can't I just want to savage my wife's sexy body?"

"So I am just meat to you?"

Francis gaped. "What? No!"

Mary laughed loudly. "I am."

"No," he quickly said. "I love you, I adore you!"

Mary turned in his arms. "Then... I lead."

"What?" Francis asked dumbly.

"In bed," she said softly, trailing a finger down his cheek before cupping it. "I lead. And you're. Not. Allowed. To. Touch."

"What?!"

"Without permission, of course," Mary added.

"Are you s-saying what I'm thinking-"

"I want to show you how much I love _you_," she said. "You're always satisfying _my_ needs. Even our wedding night was all about me. Let me do you."

Francis grinned, taking her hand and leading her back inside before closing the doors and pulling the curtains closed as well as the blinds shut. He then pulled his shirt off and kicked his trousers off, much to his wife's amusement.

He jumped onto the bed and faced her. "I'm ready."

"I can see that!" Mary laughed, crossing her arms and shaking her head. "God, you men think with your other head a lot."

"Can you blame us when we have beautiful partners?"

"Flattery will get you everywhere, Francis," she replied, blushing a dark red.

"Good. Now hurry up and let's have some fun!"

Mary snorted, shaking her head as she took her clothes off. "I'm coming. Jesus, can't give a woman a minute to prepare? Had the lingerie and everything..."

...

"...I wouldn't want to overstep on Bash's toes. I think the bathroom is enough so I don't keep stubbing my toe on that damned bath."

"It's my house, it belonged to my parents and my grandparents," Diane began. "I can renovate it if I want to. I'm just glad someone sees the vision for it as I do."

"But Bash-"

"But 'I' what?" Bash asked, entering the room with his arms crossed as he looked around his bedroom.

"Are you done with your little tantrum?" Diane asked him, smiling coyly.

Bash swallowed deeply. "I'm fine," he said. "And I shouldn't have been impatient earlier. I apologise, I will work on that."

Kenna blushed. "Uh, it's my fault. We've barely known each other for two weeks and I'm changing your childhood home... I'm so sorry," she apologised, walking up to him shyly. "I get ahead of myself sometimes and it's not a healthy habit."

"No, change is good," Bash said, slipping an arm around her waist to admire the new decor. "Like that photo of us from the wedding as best man and maid of honour. I like that." His eyes landed on another framed photograph and he frowned. "A-And that one of me in my uniform."

"You're so handsome," his betrothed said happily. "I had to put it on full display! It was all dusty in one of the drawers I cleared out to make space for my underwear. Speaking of underwear, I went to Victoria's Secret yesterday and got you some things you'd like to see on me..."

Bash looked down at her and saw her eyes darken with lust. "Not in front of company, darling."

"I know," she sang, leaving his side to grab a sketchbook. "I've also drawn some pictures of paintings I'd like to paint when I have the chance to. We'll have them on the walls of our new home."

"Wonderful," Bash said, strained. "I-I got you a gift."

"A gift?" Kenna asked, eyes wide and excited. "What is it?"

Bash chuckled, leaving the room to retrieve a black box with a gold ribbon. He handed it to her and she turned to Diane, both women wondering what could be under the lid.

Kenna took the lid off and gasped when a puppy leapt into her arms, causing her to drop the box and lid as she laughed. She turned to Bash as the puppy licked her face.

"Oh, Bash!" She cried out, giving the dog a good rub on its back.

"I thought you'd like more company," he told her. "Considering I'll be out most of the time and my mother will return to South Africa soon. It's a girl, she's a Cavalier King Charles Spaniel."

Kenna's eyes watered. "She's beautiful!"

"She really is!" Diane said, stroking the dog's fur.

Bash smiled. "I believe that Mary had one before Stirling?"

Kenna nodded. "Sadly, her one died of cancer when we were thirteen. It was so heartbreaking burying Alice. It took her two years until she got Stirling." She looked down at the dog. "Hello, baby!"

"I have everything she requires downstairs. She will have her own room and I will add a kennel to the list of things we want to be added to our home in Paris," Bash said, collecting the empty box and its lid. "My father adores Cavalier King Charles Spaniels so he will be lenient should we visit Fontainebleau with her."

Kenna blushed. "I'll take that to mind."

"Any names?" Diane asked the couple.

Bash looked at his wife. "You choose. She's yours."

Kenna bit her lip in thought for a few minutes before deciding on, "Olenna."

"Olenna?" Diane asked, confused.

Bash chuckled. "Of course," he mumbled. "Olenna Tyrell was Kenna's favourite Game of Thrones character, Maman. Olenna is fit for a queen. A dog queen at least."

Kenna giggled, cuddling her new child. "Thank you, mon amour. You're a Godsend... No one has ever got me a dog before or gifts overall. My parents didn't allow us to get a family dog after two died of unnatural causes."

"Now how does that happen?" Diane asked her.

"One was hit by a car and the other... Mysteriously suffered the same fate," Kenna said ominously. "But the thing is, we lived in the countryside. The _quiet_ countryside."

"Well, you now have questions for your parents," Bash said, chuckling. "I will see you two later. I need to check in on Francis and head to Fontainebleau for a meeting with Henry and the Ministry of Foreign Affairs."

Kenna frowned. "How long will you be?"

"I will be back by dinner," he told them. "Enjoy making this house a _home_ and getting acquainted with Olenna. I bid you, adieu."

He bowed dramatically, making the women giggle or chuckle in Diane's case, and left, his smile leaving his face quickly. He couldn't handle the guilt. It wasn't his fault but he didn't pull away all the same.

Every time this happened, will he just buy gifts for Kenna to keep her from knowing the truth?

He cursed himself, handing the gift box to Dr Winter as he left without a second thought to his fiancée and Olivia.

...

Mary emerged from the water, wiping her hair back as she began to walk out of the ocean. She wore a one-piece just in case, deciding on a similar two-piece swimsuit for the private hot tub later with Francis. Rubbing her face free of water, she smiled when she found her husband snoring on the beach towel.

"Francis!" She sang, kneeling down and hovering above him. "Babe..."

Francis jolted awake, a lazy smile on his face. "Hi."

"Hi," she replied, kissing him. "Why are you so tired?"

Francis shrugged. "I think I'm coming down with a cold, love," he mumbled, shielding his eyes from the sun. Their second day here was hot, way hotter than France.

"Oh, please don't!"

"I will try," he said, chuckling before he yawned. He looked up and smirked, brushing his fingers over a bruise on her collarbone. "Shit. Sorry about this."

Mary frowned. "What are you on about?"

"Earlier, I may have left my mark on you."

She retrieved her makeup mirror from their beach bag and inspected her skin, gasping. "Francis! I said no hickeys!"

"I'm sorry! It should go before our Canada trip," was his reply, leaning up to place a sweet kiss on the red bruise.

Mary blushed. "If any camera sneaks past, they'll see it."

"We're young!" Francis chuckled loudly. "They should be relieved to know that our sex life is going swimmingly well."

She pushed him back down. "I don't want people knowing about our sex life!"

"The French are really excited when it comes to that. Every time they heard wind of my parents expecting _again_, they would drink and party all week long," Francis said. "It is a sign that our country is strong and fruitful. Soon, they'll place bets on what we'll have. Either way, our child will be the future monarch."

"I can't believe your dad sprung that news on us. That he didn't mind a future queen," she mumbled, smiling a little. "Puts less pressure on us to have sons."

Francis placed a hand on her stomach. "We might have the first Queen Regnant of France, Mary. Finally, we can move on from ruling kings."

"You're so for this, aren't you?"

"Of course," he said happily. "We are in the 21st century. Women are just as powerful as men. You can vote, you can work and bear the children and be all-around bosses."

"I knew you love Beyoncé!"

"And many other women of power," Francis said proudly. "Inspirations for us all!" He caressed her hips. "But you inspire me the most."

Mary moaned when he ground against her and she leant down to kiss him, her fingers raking his chest as his lips moved to her collarbone and sucked at it. She didn't care if she got another red bruise, the effect he had on her was mind-blowing.

"Oh, God," she whispered, her eyes closing.

"You're mine," Francis said into her ear.

"Uh-uh," she breathed out.

"And I'm yours..." He trailed off, moving a hand between them.

Mary swallowed deeply. "You are." She reached down to direct his hand but he kept it firmly in place. "Please."

"'Please' what?" Francis asked coyly.

Mary looked at him, her eyes opening. "I want you to..."

"Go on..."

"Touch me," she whispered shyly.

Francis grinned. "As my wife wishes."

...

Bash froze in his steps and turned around, heading back into his father's office to see the King pick up his folder of things to bring up with the Ministry of Foreign Relations. He frowned at his son curiously.

"Why are the D'Amencourts here?"

"Catherine invited them," Henry replied, rounding the desk to meet him by the doors. "The Duke missed her and they are catching up over tea. Olivia came to see what marriage prospects she could have."

"The Duke can stay but she has to go," Bash told his father.

Henry smirked. "One of your former conquests, son?"

"No..."

"I can read you like a book, my boy," Henry said, grinning. "I heard you got the Comtessa a pet. You hate dogs so you must have done something bad."

Bash turned to his father in surprise. "How do you know I got her a dog?"

"You do realise that our security teams are entwined," Henry stated, baffled. "Anyway, what did you do?"

"Olivia... She cornered me at the FEGA and kissed me."

Henry frowned deeply. "I see," he said, gesturing for his son to take a seat as he placed his files onto the coffee table.

Bash also sat down with his father, shrugging. "I don't know what to do. She's relentless."

"She is Catherine's goddaughter; they are really close," Henry said, sighing. "It might be another plan of hers."

"Can she not try and ruin my marriage before it starts?" Bash snapped. "Whatever you can do, do it. Catherine can't go around screwing our lives up, we have an image. _You_ have an image. Everything has been damaging if not for Narcisse and I coming up with ideas to protect the family, we can't afford a civil war."

Henry nodded. "I understand," he replied. "I will speak to her, see what I can do."

"Thank you," Bash said gratefully.

"Before you go..."

"Yes?"

"I've been talking to my courtiers and Narcisse," Henry said to his son. "The line of succession."

Bash furrowed his brows. "What about it?"

"I told Francis and Mary not to worry about their firstborn being a son or not because either way, I am abolishing the 'only male' line," Henry announced. "That is why we will be seeing the Ambassador today. You will be attending meetings by his side and get to ease yourself into your new role as a royal advocate."

"Are you... are you serious?"

"I am. If I'm honest, I hope they have a daughter first. France needs her first Queen Regnant and _not_ Consort," Henry said with a grin. "It sounds silly, doesn't it? But other countries are or have taken that leap. And I had a dream, God spoke to me. He told me that my first grandchild will set an example for everyone in France. I believe that meant it will be a girl."

Bash started to laugh. "Dad, you and your prophecies-"

"I know I sound mad but when God speaks to you, you must listen. I have already got a team of aides working on French names for strong queens. We could go with _Marie_ like Mary and her mother or-"

"Should I be who you're talking to about this?" Bash teased his father. "I'm sure Mary and Francis will be very grateful for your help."

Henry scoffed lightly. "You know how you young people are. Old traditions are not the way for you. Anyway, I also wanted to talk about _you_."

"Me?" Bash asked, surprised. "Don't tell me you had a dream."

Henry chuckled wryly, leaning back in his seat as he put one leg over the other, getting comfortable. "I know things have been tense ever since you were born," he said. "So I hope to rectify that."

"Dad, I'm a grown man," Bash told him. "I've accepted things as they are. I'm grateful for my life. I'm grateful for everything I have, and that I am."

"I'm glad," Henry replied happily. "But I'd be glad if you were behind Francis and his children, before the others."

"What?" Bash breathed out. "I-I-"

"Charles... He hasn't got a diplomatic nor fair bone in his body. He's spoilt unfortunately because of his mother and he always vies for my attention," Henry said. "Henri Jr, he's got dreams to be a teacher or something. I do not mind, he's my son and I will help him get to his dreams but he isn't a good potential successor, God forbid anything happens to Francis and his family and even you and yours. And Louis, well he's eight. We can't really tell what he will become yet. Then the girls... Don't get me started."

Bash began to laugh. "Charles can be changed, he's only fifteen. Henri Jr can tutor children as a job, under supervision. And Louis. Well, he's just Louis."

"Bash-"

"It's not a good idea-"

"It is," Henry argued gently. "If not for my second marriage, you would have been first in line. It was unfair of me to cut you out. You're my eldest and I want to make amends for the past."

Bash nodded slowly. "I get that and-"

"Then we will speak no more on the matter," Henry said happily, getting up. "You've agreed to becoming a prince, I will talk to Parliament and have it confirmed." He collected his files. "The Ministry of Foreign Relations is waiting."

The King left and Bash remained seated, in shock of what had just happened. It wasn't until Narcisse found him that he finally had the ability to get up from his seat and follow him to the conference room.

"He told you?" Narcisse asked knowingly.

"Have you ever told a king 'no'?"

"I do not aim to use that word in my vocabulary around your father. We may be old friends but I have yet to see a day I've said that to him," Narcisse told him. "But there are other ways to say 'no'."

He gave the _prince_ a smile and Bash scowled lightly before entering the room and sitting down opposite his father at the other end of the table. Narcisse placed some files in front of him and Bash scanned through them, turning to the Ambassador who spoke.

"The Minister of Foreign Affairs is on his way," he said. "I apologise for the delay."

"Not at all," Henry said. "Did you enjoy the wedding?"

The Ambassador nodded, smiling. "It was beautiful from beginning to end."

"Good," Henry said, returning the smile with a sigh.

Bash smiled to himself, wondering if this was how his duties were going to be like. Awkward small talk, embarrassed politicians, silence and throats cleared every now and then.

"You remember my eldest, the Duke de Orléans," Henry told him.

"Yes," the Ambassador replied, turning to Bash. "Pleasure to meet you again, Sir."

"Likewise," Bash said. "Do anybody like horses?"

Henry bit back a smile.

...

"I'm glad we decided to take things to the bed before we got ahead of ourselves," Mary said softly as she laid her head on Francis's bare chest. "The bed is much more comfortable and less sand-filled."

Francis chuckled, kissing the top of her head languidly. "I'm in Heaven."

Mary pinched him and he gasped out in pain. "Nope, still alive."

"Funny. Ha, ha," Francis replied before breaking out in a bright smile. "Do you think we should test the waters?"

Mary leant up and rested her chin on his breastbone to look at him. "How do you mean?"

"A pregnancy test," he stated quietly.

"Francis... There are protocols-"

"Screw protocols," Francis replied. "I don't want to wait three months to find out if we're parents or not. It's been a good three weeks since we became intimate again before the wedding, there could be something."

Mary rolled her eyes playfully. "I've not had symptoms yet."

"Every pregnancy is different," was her husband's reply. "Go on. Please?"

Mary sighed. "I'll ask Angelica."

"Thank you, Mary," Francis said, grinning widely.

"What would happen if we had a baby so soon?"

"We'll deal with it. We have a lot of support and we can raise them to the best of our abilities," Francis replied easily.

Mary bit her lip nervously. "What if I can't be a good mum?"

"What are you talking about?" Francis asked gently. "My love, you are the most maternal person I know. Look at how you play with my younger siblings and how you are with your friends. You're a natural, you are so happy and proud of everyone else, you have love in your heart. Even if your parental relationships suffered, along with mine, you still have a chance to do better for our child."

"If we have a child," Mary told him.

He smiled. "If we have a child." His heart leapt. "I'm scared to find out now."

"You'll be the best dad in the world..."

"Would I?"

"Yes," she said. "You've just comforted and assured me. You'll be great at helping our kids with their problems."

Francis blushed. "Okay, I really want to know now."

Mary grinned. "Same."

"We should probably be less naked and sweaty though."

Mary burst into giggles, pressing kisses on Francis's chest. "Want to join me for a shower?"

"I have a feeling that we'll have less of the showering and more of lovemaking," he said, leaving a chaste kiss on her lips.

"You'll just have to find out, husband," Mary replied breathily before slinking out of the bed and walking to the bathroom. She turned her head back and eyed him. "Are you... coming?"

Francis chuckled, shaking his head in disbelief. "So my wife thinks she's funny now?"

"Oh, darling, I've always been funny," she replied, blowing him a kiss and disappearing into the bathroom.

...

Francis and Mary had decided to take the pregnancy tests after visiting a restaurant, protected by Hawaiian security as well as theirs. They had a private table, shielded away from the rest of the diners and Mary reached a hand over the table to link with her husband's.

He grinned, eyeing the rings on her hand. "Every time I see your hand, I fall in love with you all over again. Because these," he began, lifting her left hand up. "Remind me that we're married."

Mary blushed. "Stop, you're going to make me cry."

"I just love you so much," Francis told her, kissing the palm of her hand softly.

"You're making it so hard."

"To do what?"

"Not pull you onto the table and have my way with you," Mary replied, blushing even more.

He gave her a wink and turned his head to look at their view of the ocean. "Hawaii is really beautiful."

"It is," she whispered. "When we have kids, we'll bring them here."

Francis squeezed her hand. "We will."

When they returned to the villa, Angelica handed them the pregnancy tests and gave them a thumbs-up before disappearing into her room. The couple headed upstairs as their two security guards turned in for the night, the Hawaiian guards remaining in position.

As she went up every step, Mary felt her heart beating hard. She felt terrified, unsure but a little happy and excited. She and Francis would deal with the situation together and tell everyone at the chateau in private when they returned before announcing the news publicly after she was thirteen weeks gone.

Getting to their bedroom, Mary grabbed the tests and entered the bathroom. She had drunk a lot for this moment and she used a plastic cup that was inside the drugstore bag and peed in it. As she did so, her husband waited patiently with a stupid grin on his face.

"I don't know what's so satisfying about staring at me pee in a cup," Mary said. "Come to confirm you did a good job well done?"

Francis laughed, taking a seat on the ground and crossing his legs as she finished up, sticking the three ClearBlue tests into the cup.

"Be useful and set up the timer," she told him, going over to the sink to wash her hands.

"Relax, love," Francis replied cheekily, taking his phone out and going to the alarm app to turn on a timer. "How long?"

"Three minutes."

"Seems like lightyears away," he mumbled, setting it up. "And by the way, seeing you take pregnancy tests turns me on."

Mary scowled but smiled a little. "Would I still turn you on if I'm fat and ugly?"

"What? Babe, you can _never_ be ugly but yes, you will gain a little weight as the months go on. Leading to me being turned on because I love you and everything that comes with you."

Mary let out a soft laugh. "Why do I turn you on?"

Francis blushed. "Because you're wonderful. You're kind, sweet, loving, caring, beautiful, sexy, gorgeous, smart, like crazy smart, funny even though you need to work on that, sweet-"

"You already said that," Mary said, giggling.

"_Sweet_," Francis said for the third time. "Amazing, marvellous, a goddess-"

"I get it," Mary said, laughing happily. "I love you."

"Love you too, love."

They sat in comfortable silence on the ground, sharing bright smiles and warm gazes. Their hands met on the cold floor and Francis squeezed it lovingly, rubbing the back of her hand.

When the timer went off, he silenced it and Mary retrieved the tests.

She looked at them.

"Well?"

...

Kenna giggled as Bash led her through their bedroom at their new home with his hands over her eyes. She bumped into a few things and reached behind her to smack his thigh. "I swear, if I bump into something else, I will kill you."

Bash chuckled. "I'm sorry," he said. "I should have warned you."

"Just like the first four times," she muttered, placing her hands on his over her eyes.

"I had some unexpected news today," he told her, continuing to lead her through their bedroom and into the bathroom. "I don't know how I feel about it but I wanted to talk through it with you. For now, though, I'd like you to enjoy what I've done for our new home. Or our bathroom in particular."

Kenna laughed and he finally took his hands away. She gasped, looking around. "You didn't...!"

"I did," he confirmed. "White marble and glass, as you wanted. _With_ the bath by the wall and not in the middle."

"My toes thank you," Kenna replied, turning to kiss him.

Bash chuckled against her lips. "Check the bathtub properly."

She narrowed her eyes and walked away from him, heading to the tub. She gasped when she looked inside and saw clear cut diamonds inside, filling up three-quarters of the tub.

"What is this?"

"I didn't propose properly," Bash said on one knee as she turned to face him, gasping. He retrieved an amethyst engagement ring and held it up, the ring sparkling in the moonlight.

Kenna blushed. "Oh, Bash..."

"Your father told us some stories over Golf. You've always wanted a fairytale wedding, the proposal included," he said. "So here is me asking you, Mckenna Marie Beaton to be my lawfully wedded wife."

Kenna bit her lip, walking over to him. "I didn't need a new ring-"

"You did," he said. "You can wear my grandmother's ring on your right hand."

Kenna put the ring on her right finger and reached her left out to him so he could slip the new ring on her left finger. "It's beautiful."

"I have good taste," he replied. "And my mother."

She chuckled, her phone beeping with a new text. She took it and saw that it was from Mary, asking if the women were free. "It's Mary," she said. "She probably has something to tell us..."

"I'll go check on Olenna," Bash said, getting up and planting a quick kiss on her lips before leaving.

Kenna smiled and looked down to see that Mary had changed her mind. tutting, she chuckled at her friend's behaviour before heading out of the bathroom to find Bash in the bed with Olenna in his arms.

"Smart thing came to us," he said, burying his face into her fur. "I'll take her to the groomers tomorrow."

"Mary changed her mind," she explained. "And that's kind of you. I could do that."

"No, I've booked an appointment and I have to visit Bayard who lives near the groomers about something."

Kenna jumped onto the bed, making Olenna jump. "Sorry, sweetie," she said, stroking her fur. "About what, mon amour?"

"Halloween."

"Halloween?"

"Yes," Bash said. "He can get the only drink I allow people to drink at my Halloween-themed parties."

Kenna shook her head in disbelief. "Seriously?"

"Yes," Bash told her. "It's like this Ghost Liquour or something. We found out about its presence in Russia on duty."

"About being on duty, your picture has disappeared from our bedroom in Avon," Kenna told him. "Tell me about that time."

Bash smiled. "No."

"Come on!"

"No," he said softly. "You don't need to know about that."

"Was it a bad experience?"

"No comment."

"Did you use a gun?"

"No comment."

"Are you licensed to use a gun? Do we have guns that are not security owned at our properties?"

"No comment and no comment," Bash replied, chuckling. "You ask a lot of questions."

Kenna glared at him. "We'll be married in two months, I need to ask questions."

"Fine," Bash said. "I was in the Army for about four years from aged 16 to 20. It's sort of mandatory, a law coming from many centuries ago, I don't know. My father is in talks about shutting down that law in favour of men remaining in education and hoping to go into further education."

"I see," she replied. "And...?"

"I was going to continue to remain in duty but my mother fell ill briefly and I left to see her in South Africa where she was working into getting citizenship there," Bash continued. "I just... I hate talking about it because I loved it."

Kenna gasped. "Seriously?"

"Yes," Bash said gently. "I had a purpose. I only ever had my mother and my horses but when I was sent on tours, I could have a taste of something different than the King of France's illegitimate son. I could see suffering, I could help those people, those children... I don't regret not going back but at the same time, I missed the discipline and control I had over things. I had a family in the Army."

Kenna smiled softly, cupping his cheek. "Now you have me and Olenna."

"I do," he said, kissing her palm. "I'm sorry I don't talk about it. It's not like I ever pulled a gun on another human being like Bayard and the Vargas. I was on humanitarian duties mostly. No one could risk having me killed because of who I was. But I felt free despite the jail I was in. The jail being my father and his role in France and my lack thereof."

"Finding purpose is hard," Kenna replied quietly. "I've wandered through the years pretty aimlessly. I drank, partied, slept with other people behind my 'perfect heiress' background. I don't know, it's not the same as your story-"

"But it still is a reason you are who you are today," Bash cut her off. "Anyway, this is too much getting to know each other. I want to get to know you in other ways or reaffirm things."

Kenna rolled her eyes playfully and got off the bed. "And in which way may that be?"

"Have you ever made love in a bathtub full of diamonds?"

Kenna gasped. "Don't think I have..."

...

"I'm sorry I almost told the girls," Mary mumbled, wiping her cheeks dry of tears. "I don't even know why I'm crying. I'm sorry."

Francis smiled a little. "Don't be. It's fine. Whenever you feel like you can't talk to me, you talk to them. I can't compete with that."

Mary shook her head. "Don't be stupid. They may be like sisters to me but you're my husband and this is _our_ situation. It doesn't have anything to do with them until we make it their business."

He ran his fingers through her hair, his hands cupping her cheeks and his lips pressing against hers before he pulled away. "How are you feeling?"

"How are _you_ feeling?" Mary whispered.

Francis shrugged. "I don't know. This affects you more than me."

"It affects both of us," Mary told him, frowning. "Just because women bear the children, doesn't mean men don't have opinions over the matter. I just... I don't know. I'm sorry-"

"Stop apologising, my love," Francis said softly. "You have nothing to apologise for."

Tears sprung to her eyes and she wrung her hands with a soft sigh. "I don't know how I feel," she said honestly. "I'd admit, I expected the opposite result."

"Why?"

"I don't know?" She said, phrasing it more as a question than an answer. "I'm just being silly..." She wiped her falling tears and swallowed deeply. "I love you, Francis."

"I love you too," Francis replied easily, placing his hand on her stomach as a smile grew on his face. "Mary... We're having a baby."

She started to laugh through the tears that were building up again, the initial shock wearing off. "Oh, God," she muttered. "I honestly thought it was too soon but here we are..."

"Here we are," Francis said happily. "We made a wedding night baby, baby."

Mary squealed, wrapping her arms around his neck which made him fall back on the seat from their position on the sofa. "I can't believe it."

"You better believe it, Mama Bear."

"Oh my God," Mary breathed out, hovering over him. "They will take over."

"Who?"

"Our mothers!"

"Oh..."

"The whole duration, the nursery, the christening..." Mary sighed heavily. "For fuck's sake..."

Francis snorted. "Don't swear in front of our unborn child!"

She hit his chest. "It doesn't even have ears yet," she argued lightly. "I'll be honest... I wasn't so sure about having a baby so soon but now it's confirmed and you're happy, _I'm_ happy."

Francis sighed in relief. "Good," he whispered. "I can't wait to raise this baby with you, Mary."

"Neither can I," Mary whispered back, kissing him hard. "Well, that's one thing off our shoulders."

"What's the next thing?"

"Making the most out of this honeymoon time that we have left."


	10. Sense And Sensibility

**Replies to reviews:**

**elder441 [chapter 9]: Indeed, nothing is better than happy Frary. More moments down below!**

**BlerBlerBler [chapter 9]: Indeed! He just wants to make those gorgeous baby with his beautiful wife!**

****Sav.129 [chapter 9]: Awh, thank you! Hope you enjoy them!****

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_'Dauphin and Dauphin Return To France!'_

_'The newlyweds returned from their four-week honeymoon where they visited the United Kingdom, Hawaii, Canada and Alaska. During their tour, they met with politicians and strengthened their relations with the Queen of England, Elizabeth II. It is shown that the Duke and Duchess of Anjou were very elated which could very well mean that we should expect a little prince or princess in the near future, considering the evident weight gain the Dauphine gained over the month. Their first order of business is an interview with the head of our French Times newspaper, Samuel Nostradamus. Later on, they will meet with the Prime Minister and Parliament along with King Henry and Queen Catherine as well as the Duke of Orléans. It might be their first day back, but that does not mean they will get any rest. From everybody at the French Times, we wish Prince Francis and the Duchess of Anjou bonne chance.'_

Mary placed the newspaper down and looked up at Nostradamus. "You and Catherine went to school together."

"We did," Samuel said, sipping his tea. "You did your research, Duchess."

Mary nodded. "I did," she replied. "What did she have on you?"

Nostradamus shrugged. "Nothing. My sources did their research and gave me the information that I needed. I never write anything but the truth-"

"Or you twist it," Mary said. "The first article - the FEGA appearances. You quickly turned around and called it an attempt at a bachelor and bachelorette party."

Nostradamus sipped his tea again. "I did. Because I intended to rectify my false information. I apologise that we did not realise the photos were doctored. We have a high reputation and that could have proved damaging."

Mary sipped her own tea before saying, "And the next negative ones about my best friend and myself?"

"I was at the engagement party, Your Highness," Samuel told her. "I left late, like many of the other guests and as I went in search of the bathroom, I saw the King and Comtessa. As for the other article, we were not in knowledge of the Dauphin's disguises."

Mary swallowed deeply. "How much to keep silent about the first article's true source?"

"You do not deny it?"

"How much, Samuel?"

Samuel gave her a soft smile. "Nothing. It is none of my business to ruin the monarchy. The article was published against my wishes. I found out when I was trying to go to Spain with my wife and children. You can imagine the fear and terror I came back to when I arrived at the headquarters. We could be arrested for treason. I am relieved that the situation was quickly resolved. We had a public apology sent out, did you know?"

"I stopped reading your newspaper after that until now. Do you wonder why?" She asked lightly.

"I am sincerely sorry," he said. "And I will post nothing but positive stories about you."

"Don't be biased-"

"I won't be if you pardon me intruding," Nostradamus said. "You could really be what this family needs. A breath of fresh air, someone who has the best of both worlds. Life in Britain and heritage in France."

Mary smiled. "I see. Any prophetic words for me?"

"Do not be afraid to speak out," he said. "Be wary of Catherine. She's a viper, not one to be messed with."

"Thank you."

"Oh, and read your Bible. Catholic souls and all."

Mary laughed. "Being the perfect little dauphine, I will be."

"Good. Most of all, turn the other cheek and ignore slander," Samuel said. "The spotlight isn't always easy but you have Francis and your friends and mother to rely on."

Mary crossed one leg over the other. "Thank you."

"You're welcome."

"I will see you out," she said as they stood. "And Samuel? Can I call you Samuel?"

"Oui."

"If you need anything just get in touch," she said. "I've been at the end of Catherine's wrath, I wouldn't want your family to suffer."

Nostradamus smiled. "I am fine for now. Our friendship keeps things interesting."

Mary thought about it. She could use him against Catherine but wouldn't she just be stooping to her level? She sighed and gave him a bright smile.

"Good luck with the French Times."

"Good luck being a princess."

...

Marie sighed, swatting the hands away from her. "It's nothing," she said. "I'm probably just going through the menopause."

Mary shook her head, kneeling down to stroke her beloved dog. "Please, let the doctors check you. If not for Sterling, no one would have known you were unconscious on the floor..."

Marie reached out and rubbed the dog behind his neck. "Good boy," she mumbled. "Darling daughter of mine, I am fine. I know my own body."

"That's what they all say, Aunt Marie," Kenna said softly. "And then the next thing you know, you're dead and we're planning a funeral so soon after the wedding. What's next, a baby?"

Mary froze, eyeing her friends warily before turning back to her mother. "Be quiet, Kenna! Don't scare us like that."

"I'm sorry," Kenna replied genuinely. "Do you want me to get you some water?"

"Thank you, dear," Marie said, accepting Lola and Greer's hands to stand up and take a seat on the chaise as Kenna left. "Much better."

"You're running yourself down, Aunt Marie," Greer said disparagingly. "Who else will order us about to be sensible and collected if not you?"

"Catherine?"

Everyone laughed, even Marie who began to fan herself. She felt hot and awful, and she definitely knew her own body, her daughter and her friends were just being too cautious.

"Perhaps staying at the chateau is too much," Lola said. "Greer and I are staying at Avon for the time being. The hustle and bustle at Fontainebleau and Versailles are too much."

"You just have to get used to it," Marie said. "As Mary's advisors but I do agree, keeping away is a good idea." She paused. "Where did I leave my glasses?"

Mary left Stirling's side and got her mother's glasses from the woman's head, showing them to her. "Here you are. If not for me, you'd forget yourself, eh?"

Marie smiled, cupping her daughter's cheeks. "Don't worry about me, darling. Worry about yourself, Francis and working on producing France an heir."

_One step ahead of you_, Mary thought happily. "Yes, Maman," she said fondly. "I will go and see where Kenna and that water have got to."

She left the sitting room that joined their rooms and headed to her new one in the King's State Apartments. It seemed that her mother was alright for the time being and Mary felt like she couldn't necessarily throw her guts up in front of her mother and friends.

She found Francis in the middle of a conference call with his father, the Prime Minister and other government people. She eyed the TV and wondered if they could see her, even still she put a smile on her face and entered the bathroom, closing the door behind her.

She ran the taps and before she knew it, she was throwing up in the toilet and she hated it. The nausea was terrible and began a few days into their Alaskan holiday. She enjoyed the trip, preferring to stay indoors in the warmth with a warm cup of herbal tea to relax her stomach.

She pressed a hand on her flat tummy and grinned. She still couldn't believe it even though they've known for quite a while now. She was pregnant. A little human was growing inside of her.

Mary knew it was futile to keep it to themselves, she needed to see a doctor and get whatever she needed to make it through this pregnancy and get a healthy baby at the end of it.

She turned and vomited again. It was like a continuous splurge and whenever she felt fine to move back again, she immediately returned and threw up. She mentally cursed, knowing exactly what was coming out of her body.

Francis had made a comment about her eating a lot more and she had grown a bit of weight from the eating as opposed to the pregnancy. Even the French Times mentioned her weight. She hadn't felt conscious per se and didn't bring it up with Samuel Nostradamus but it felt like the world already knew something they were supposed to announce at thirteen weeks gone.

She blamed herself, not resisting the urge to feed herself and her growing baby but then she cursed herself for thinking so negatively. This was a good thing. People would get excited and start to discuss whether they will have a prince or princess and she enjoyed food now, and she most certainly was glowing as Angelica, Michel and Fabian told her. She looked like a natural-born mother and wife.

"Love, are you alright?"

Mary groaned. "Not really. Throwing up last morning's, afternoon's and evening's food. And this morning's..."

"A lot of food," Francis said, chuckling as he brushed her hair back. "Oh, baby..."

"I'm fine," she mumbled, coughing. "How's your cold?"

"Better," he said. "It was a brief thing, my body telling me to slow down and relax-hey, I'm supposed to be worrying about you!"

Mary grinned wryly. "You're my husband and future king."

"Don't be silly," he replied, kneeling beside her and pressing a kiss to her sweaty cheek. "You're my wife and my life."

"Fuck's sake," she muttered, giggling. "My mother's not feeling well."

"What?" Francis asked, alarmed. "Is she alright? Shall I call for-"

"She thinks it's the menopause," Mary cut him off warily. "I worry about her, she stresses out a lot and... She's the only family I have who doesn't hate me."

Francis frowned. "I don't hate you and nor does our child."

Mary gave him a smile. "I know but you know what I mean. I came to France with my mother fighting my corner. My brother and I didn't speak but seeing him when we visited the UK was good. We talked a little, he hugged and congratulated me but I could see feel the awkwardness. I hope to rectify that soon before our baby comes."

"Definitely," Francis said, moving to kiss her but she quickly backed away. "Even if you taste of vomit, I still want to kiss you."

Mary scoffed lightly. "You're weird and disgusting," she said, flushing the toilet and going over to the sink to wash her hands and brush her teeth again.

"Should we tell our parents?"

"We should. The doctor needs to see me."

"Alright, I will schedule a conference call and have Michel bring your mother over."

Mary smiled. "Alright."

...

"I knew it!" Catherine cried out. She seemed warmer, happier, relieved on the screen and Mary resisted the urge to roll her eyes considering the woman nearly had her packing back to Scotland. "I will come right-"

"If you come," Francis began, wanting to keep his privacy with his wife. "People will insinuate things and put two and two together. We want to keep the news on the low until we're thirteen weeks gone."

Henry nodded. "That is wise. We wouldn't want your privacy and happy bubble to be burst with people trying to grope you or catch bad pictures of you at this delicate time."

"Is your morning sickness going well?" Her mother asked, running her fingers through her daughter's hair soothingly.

Mary turned to her mother with a smile. "It is. This morning was just the worse it has been so far."

"I am sure your mother and I can come up with a solution for that," Catherine said, excited. "Oh, I am so happy for both of you!"

"So, we're having a summer baby," Henry said. "Let's hope it does not fall anywhere near Charles's birthday if you did conceive the child during your wedding night."

Francis blushed, seeing his wife do the same. "We did," he admitted. "So, the due date should be around mid-June if we check with the doctor."

"Wonderful," Marie said. "Just wonderful. We should let you get some rest. You've had a long day today."

"In fact, do not bother with the formal meeting with us and the Prime Minister. Francis will represent you both," Henry said. "It is cutting it fine, this evening, and I wouldn't want you to feel terrible throughout. You must think about the baby and yourself from now on."

"No, I do not want to shirk my duties-"

"You were throwing up all day, Mary," Francis said gently. "Even at the end of our honeymoon. Just take some rest."

The other three people pleaded the same thing and she feebly accepted to stand down for the day and rest. She could spend time with Sterling, not having seen him in ages. She could also start going through wedding plans with Kenna and Diane through conference call.

"Fine," she said. "I will rest."

...

"This lace is perfect for a dress," Kenna said, running her fingers over a beautiful pattern on the mood board. "I hope you girls don't mind that I went and got samples myself."

Mary smiled. "Not at all," she replied, flicking through the wedding scrapbook. "You've done a lot whilst we were away."

Kenna beamed happily. "I had to. I had inspiration... Bash has been like a dream lately so I'd wake up in the middle of the night and get working. Oh, I've started tutoring Margaret as well - her parents decided to let her go to university next Autumn."

"That's wonderful!" Greer said. "You're so selfless lately. Have we got Bash to thank for that?"

Kenna blushed. "Maybe." She turned to the dogs. "Stirling, get off Olenna!"

Mary squealed, getting up and feeling a wave of dizziness take over as she blurrily watched Kenna gently manoeuvre the cheeky dog off her own. Mary sighed heavily, taking a seat again and bringing a hand to her head.

"Sorry, he's been obsessed with female dogs since he's not had any action," Mary explained. "I'll have him get the chop."

"Oh?" Lola said, surprised. "You do not want to find him a lovely wife to breed with and give the puppies to future children?"

Mary smiled to herself. "Now that you say that..." She giggled. "Kenna, I'll try and keep him away from Olenna. She's beautiful, by the way."

Kenna grinned, lifting her dog into her arms and cuddling her. "I know. Bash knows me so well. I've been so lonely without you all and with him working, Olenna has been such great company." She looked up at the TV. "Diane's calling, finally!"

"Hi, Diane," the women said once the screen came to life with the woman's face.

"Ladies... Mary, looking stunning as usual and future daughter of mine, perfection to the fullest."

"Oh, Diane!" Mary and Kenna said, blushing furiously.

Diane chuckled. "Right, wedding planning..." She opened up her email that Kenna sent her before eyeing Mary. "Dauphine, you're glowing."

Mary gasped. "I am?"

"You are. New shampoo?" Diane asked casually but something told Mary that the woman was very clever and knew already. A mother's intuition.

"How did you know?" Mary asked, making Diane smirk.

"I have eyes," she replied. "Stay healthy."

Mary nodded, a smile on her face. "I will, thanks." She looked down at the scrapbook. "We should continue. We have two months to plan this and we all know Kenna who changes her mind at the last minute."

They giggled and Mary swallowed her bile down, hoping that she could spend the next few hours feeling well enough to spend time with her friends. But it wasn't to be and she left after an hour with Stirling, citing jet lag.

As Kenna kindly walked her to her bedroom that she shared with Francis, they got into a conversation about children and Mary's heart began to race quickly. She knew she could never hide things from those closest to her, they knew her mind and body better than she did at times.

"Bash said he didn't mind how many kids we had. I could pick a number and he'll make it happen," Kenna said, eyeing her flustered friend with a knowing smirk. "Like, he knows my body and if we really wanted to, we could start trying now. But it's too soon and we're still getting to know each other. That and we'd definitely want our first child to be a wedding night baby-"

"I'm pregnant," Mary whisper-yelled, stopping her friend and placing her hands on the other woman's shoulders. "You can stop your little, whatever that was."

Kenna beamed happily, hugging her friend tightly. "I'm so happy for you guys!" She said, pulling away to cup Mary's cheeks. "Oh my God, Diane's right! You _are_ glowing and can I be the first to say, it suits you?"

Mary's eyes watered. "Really? I've felt excited but the vomiting every other hour thing was getting too much for me. Henry had to tell me to step down."

"After twelve weeks, you'll hopefully feel better," Kenna said, letting go of her to bend down and lift Stirling into her arms. "I'm happy for you."

"Really?"

"Of course, I am! You will be a wonderful mother, Mary. And Francis looks like the natural nurturing type. He'll definitely be changing the nappies and taking over the midnight feeds, I tell you now," Kenna told her. "Congratulations."

Mary blushed and giggled. "It is amazing, isn't it? This news?"

"It is! But you know what this means, right?"

"Catherine and my mother would want to take over."

"Yes," Kenna said simply. "You need to lay down the rules and tell them that _I_ will organise your baby shower."

Mary gasped. "Kenna!"

"Be brave! You've put dear old Cat in her place once, do it again!"

"You can't call the Queen of France _Cat_!"

"Darling, I call the future Queen of France, stupid."

Mary hit her on the arm, making her yelp along with Sterling. "Bitch."

"Back at you," Kenna replied before they burst into giggles. "Is God right, making you a mother when you have the attitude of a fourteen-year-old?"

"Excuse me?!"

"Hey, I'm just saying. You get easily annoyed and restless," Kenna said. "Throughout that damn performance at your wedding, I am sure you fell asleep four times and checked Francis's watch at least thirteen times. I fear for your child you're now pregnant with."

Mary scowled. "There are dungeons at the chateaux."

"I'd like to see you try and put the future wife of the third in line in a dungeon."

"What?"

"Oh, that is one of the topics that will be spoken about at this meeting," Kenna told her friend happily. "It all happened when you were away. Henry made a few changes, Francis will fill you in. Anyway, try it, bitch."

Mary giggled. "For that, I won't stop Stirling from breeding with your precious Olenna when she's ready for that."

Kenna gaped. "Don't you dare breed this beast with my baby!"

"Don't you dare call my baby a beast!"

"What? Your baby is human!"

"Not my human baby, my dog baby! He's my eldest child, remember?"

Kenna started to laugh. "We're fucking weird, aren't we?"

"Really weird. Like crazy, insane, stab your car wheels to deflation weird," Mary replied.

"But this baby will be so loved and protected," Kenna told her friend. "I promise."

Mary took Stirling out of Kenna's arms and leaned in to kiss her best friend's cheek. "Thank you, Kenna. For being in my life."

"Thank you for having me in your life," Kenna replied easily. "Don't worry about the lack of family on your side. We're still cousins and James will come-through, and he or she has the whole of the de Guises supporting them... You're not as alone as you think. Don't forget that and I'm sure Francis won't let you either."

"He's so wonderful. I'm scared that I'll mess things up with him."

Kenna rolled her eyes. "Don't be stupid, stupid," she said lightly. "He thinks the world of you. As it should be. Trust me, you've got this."

Mary beamed. "I've got this," she said softly.


	11. A Shoulder To Lean On

**Quick thing, taking lots of inspiration from the show. Decided to binge-watch Frary and Kennash moments during this stressful time of exams in my life, haha. Decisions weren't made lightly and found myself redoing this chapter in particular. Taking inspiration from the end of season one with twists and spins of my own.**

* * *

By early December, Mary was knocked back with the news of her mother's hospitalisation. Marie had been staying at her ancestral home and it had taken five hours until Mary found out with her mother insisting not to bother the pregnant Dauphine.

"She's not been well since October when we returned from our honeymoon," she told Francis, slipping her trenchcoat on. "I'm really worried."

"Don't be-"

"I am though," she said, coming over to place her hands on his shoulders. "I just have a pit of anxiety in my stomach."

"Your mother is one of the strongest people we know," Francis said, cupping her cheeks. "I'm sure she's fine. It's probably just an upset stomach or something."

Mary gave him a look. "No one goes to the hospital over an upset stomach, Francis."

"Mary, you can't be stressed out," he replied. "Think about the baby."

"I am thinking about the baby," she told him. "And how its grandmother could be seriously sick."

"Positive thoughts, Mary," Francis replied. "Your birthing coach said only positive thoughts."

Mary scowled. "Perhaps I should fire her. All this New Age stuff is starting to bother me. I just want to be pregnant in peace."

"You're carrying the second in line to the French throne, nobody's leaving you in peace," Francis said lightly. "But if you seriously need a break from everything, don't hesitate to tell people to mind their own business or to simply fuck off."

She chuckled and nodded. "Fair enough. Although I don't want to be known as the bitchy, little princess. Claude plays that role perfectly already."

"I do hope that one day you'll all get along."

"It's not me-"

"It's them," Francis finished for her before kissing her. "Michel's waiting downstairs for you. Remember, positive thoughts."

"Shut up," Mary said, leaving his arms but she left with a smile on her face regardless.

...

"Who called you?"

"Uncle Christian," Mary told her mother disapprovingly. "You look terrible!"

Marie scowled. "Mary, dear..."

"Just tell me what's going on with you!"

"You're pregnant, think-"

"I will be less stressed out if I knew what was making my mother hospitalised," Mary cut her off angrily. "Or do I need to abuse my title in order to get answers?"

Marie smirked. "They have known me far longer than they have known you, Mary."

Mary sighed, taking a seat. "Mama... Tell me, please."

Marie's eyes watered and she took her daughter's hand gently. "I didn't want to hurt you, ma chère."

"I want to be there for you, just let me..." Mary begged her. "You're all I've got."

Marie let out a sob and cupped Mary's cheek. "I'm not going to be around for much longer, it's terminal."

Mary froze. Her heart, it felt like it was breaking into a million pieces as tears sprung to her eyes. She took her mother's hand from her cheek and placed it onto her small bump.

"You can't die, Maman," she croaked out. "You'll never get to see the baby. There must be something."

"There isn't," Marie said softly. "But I do want to make the most out of the time I have left with you."

Mary swallowed hard. "Remember the funfair you always took me to, every Spring when I was little?"

"I'll never forget," Marie replied. "We took Francis the year after you met."

"I found out that they've opened up a winter fayre instead when Francis and I were considering places to go on our date nights. We can go there," Mary suggested. "In fact, let's go right now."

Marie checked the clock on the wall. "Okay," she agreed. "Let's go."

...

It was cold in France, the chill biting at Mary's porcelain cheeks. She had a wool hat on as her mother had her scarf covering her face from the nose down and a black beret on.

The security team were mostly inconspicuous as Mary linked her arm with her mother's and they walked around the fayre, watching the bustle and hustle around them. Children ran around, they were hyper on sugary snacks and drinks, and the adults played games in hopes of winning the biggest prizes for their dates or loved ones.

Mary then decided that she'll bring her own child here one day, with Francis, the perfect, little family.

"Mary, promise me you won't dwell," Marie told her, pulling her scarf a little down to talk to her daughter.

Mary nodded. "I promise," she whispered with a sigh. "Should we attempt to get that giant Pikachu toy?"

"What will you do with that?" Marie asked with a laugh as they headed to the game stall.

"Donate it to the children's care home," Mary said easily. "We should do a few and see what we can get."

Marie beamed. "A wonderful choice, Dauphine."

"Maman, are you proud of me?"

Marie stopped and turned to cup Mary's cheeks. "So, so proud. In fact, I am so proud of you that I put all the other mothers to shame."

Mary blinked her tears away. "I wish we had more time together."

"I do too," Marie whispered, kissing Mary's forehead.

Mary sniffled. "Christmas is twenty days away, can you try and hold on until then?"

Marie shrugged. "I don't want to make any promises but I do hope to spend one last Christmas with you."

Mary blushed. "I pray that is the case," she whispered before hugging her mother tightly. "Now, let's go and win those prizes."

...

It was midnight when Mary returned to Versailles, her heart heavy and broken as she slipped her coat off and went to sit on the bay window. She stared at the sky above, seeing the stars sparkle and twinkle. She wondered if her mother was going to be one soon, people normally saying that they saw their dead loved ones as the brightest stars in their eyes.

"Mary, you're back," Francis groggily said, getting out of the bed to sit in front of her, his back against the wall and feet touching hers as he brought his knees up to his chest to accommodate them both.

"It's terminal," she said softly. "We had a great time today."

Francis looked over at the giant plushie and the other cuddly toys surrounding it. "I can tell... Mary, I'm so sorry."

"It's... It's fine," Mary replied, giving him a small smile. "Everything happens for a reason."

"Are you alright?"

Mary shrugged. "I don't know. It's like one thing and another since we arrived in France. The horrible press, your mother, your sisters, Kenna and your father, and now this. My mother's declining health."

"Mary-"

"I've always been taught to go through life with a thick skin of armour around me. To be wary of those who come for me," she began. "I grew up with my mother who played the role of mother and father. She saw me at every sports event, was there to applaud me at every certificate ceremony, even on her busiest days, she was there for me and made sure that all my birthdays were the best. It got to the point I was used to it being her and me against the world. Now I may have a new family, but I will never forget the sacrifices she made for me."

Francis took her hands and kissed them softly. "We could get a second opinion-"

"It's too late," Mary said with a sad smile. "But thanks for thinking about it. For being here for me."

"How about I talk to Monsieur Nostradamus about getting a whole front page and four pages on your mother's life and successes?" He asked.

Mary blushed. "A giant newspaper obituary? That's not embarrassing at all!"

He chuckled. "I want everyone to know that Marie de Guise made such a beautiful, wonderful, strong, talented woman called Mary Stuart. And one day, she will be the best queen France ever had."

Mary let out a sob and pulled his knees apart to kneel between them so his arms could wrap around her waist and her own could wrap around his neck. She pressed a long kiss on his lips and rested her forehead against his, whispering, "I love you so much."

"I love you too," he replied, wanting to press a hand against her bump but they were too exposed by the windows. Anyone could be watching.

"I'm tired," she whispered. "Pet me to sleep?"

"Of course, my love."

...

Even though it was midnight, the night wasn't over for Bash and Kenna. With Francis busy and Mary spending time with her mother, Lola and Remy had ended the night two hours ago and Greer and Leith not that long ago. Feeling like a third-wheel, Julien excused himself to go home ten minutes ago.

For a couple, they didn't really look like one. At least, not in public. Their relationship was still new, verging on three months. It felt normal, to Bash at least. Most of his relationships were based on sex, that's why he wanted something new and different. He didn't want to play the same song over and over again, but with Kenna, he could have the sex and even more.

Kenna shivered and he took his scarf off and wrapped it around her neck before she could refuse. He did tell her to wrap up warm, but she was insistent that she was a Scottish girl, built for the blizzards and snowy Scotland Winters.

It wasn't snowing but there was a noticeable drop in temperature. Kenna would just have to get used to it. This was going to be her home now, no more barefooted visits to the park to play her guitar or perform impromptu concerts with alcohol. She'd be surrounded by security guards and bodyguards for the rest of her life.

"This is awkward," she said after a long while of silence.

They were fine at home, but even then it was small smiles, touches and soft kisses. They barely spoke full conversations but did have sex frequently when he wasn't busy or she wasn't planning their wedding.

"It is, isn't it?" Bash replied with a small smile. "It's almost been three months and I don't even know your favourite colour."

Kenna blushed. "Why don't you guess?"

Bash looked at her briefly as they walked, their shadows ever-present. "Purple. You're obsessed with the colour. Also, it's the colour of the first dress I ever saw you in. All eyes were on you, envious and in awe."

"I know," she said, giggling when he pulled a face. "You're right."

"Go on, guess mine."

Kenna shrugged. "Uh, green?"

"No."

"Red?"

"Nope."

She grinned. "Is it some specific shade of blue?"

He nodded. "Yes."

"Navy blue."

"Close enough," he replied. "I guess you can call it navy."

She sighed in relief. "Glad we did that."

"Same here."

As they walked, there were a group of drunk men singing and coming their way. They politely smiled when they passed them by, some making jeers at Kenna's way. She squealed when one groped her on the arse and Bash turned around to confront him.

"It's fine!" Kenna said, pressing her hands against his chest to coax him away from the drunk man. "I'm used to it - I'm fine."

Bash set his jaw as the men raised their hands up in defence before laughing and walking away. He turned back to Kenna, inspecting her for any injuries even though she clearly was fine. "You shouldn't be. If anyone touched my sisters like that I'd wring their necks."

"Well, I'm lucky I'm not your sister-"

"The same goes for my fiancée," he cut her off, wrapping a protective arm around her waist. "Are you okay?"

She nodded. "I am," she assured him. "Especially when I have my big, strong husband-to-be by my side." She fixed the collar of his coat a little and kissed him softly. "I'm fine. Let's go home."

Bash nodded and offered her his arm which she took willingly. As they continued to walk on, he sent a quick text on his phone and put it back in his pocket. It made Kenna wonder what it was about but she didn't overstep her boundaries by being too inquisitive.

"So, what do you think about the new arrival to the family?" Kenna asked him.

"The last baby we had in the family was Louis so it's a breath of fresh air," he replied. "Everyone's going to be all over it when it arrives that Francis and Mary will barely have to lift a finger."

Kenna giggled. "So true. Their baby will be so gorgeous..." She tightened her grip on his arm a little. "How soon should we start trying?"

He shrugged. "Whenever you want."

"It is a joint decision."

"It's your body," Bash replied. "And the other day you were complaining all day about how you had to return six dresses back because you gained some weight."

Kenna blushed. "I... was?"

"You were."

"I'm sorry you had to see that side of me. I may be spoilt, but I try not to let it show," she said softly. "I sometimes impulse buy. Like things that are a smaller size so I have a goal to achieve."

Bash frowned. "Why do you do that?"

She shrugged. "I don't know. I've been doing that since I bought my first ever dress by myself. My parents gave me a card at fourteen and I went crazy with it."

"Do you think you might have a problem with your body image?"

Kenna scoffed lightly. "Me? Have you met me?"

"I have and I've noticed a few things about you," he said.

"Like what?" She asked, laughing nervously.

"No, I won't say," Bash told her gently.

Kenna turned to him. "You don't have to worry about offending me."

"It's not that," he replied. "It's just that I don't want to psychoanalyse you."

"I'm sorry?"

"Fine, I'll come out with it."

"Please do," she told him, her smile disappearing.

"Do you have an eating disorder?"

Kenna blinked for a few beats before shaking her head. "I've been losing weight for the wedding, Sebastian. We want to look good in the photos, don't we?"

Bash stopped them, letting go of her. "Nobody's noticed, have they?"

She smiled and it reminded Bash of something fake, something plastic. "I don't know what you're talking about."

"It probably started when Catherine kidnapped you because I noticed then - you barely ate," he said. "PTSD works in different ways. But this may stem from even before you arrived in France. You hide your pain behind shopping, sex, diamonds and other things."

Kenna rolled her eyes and walked on, a sour taste in her mouth. "You couldn't be further from the truth, Sebastian."

He caught up with her. "Kenna, if there's something wrong with you, shouldn't you want to get better or fix it?"

"I don't need fixing," she snapped. "But thanks for your concern."

"Don't get upset."

"No," she said firmly. "I'm not upset. Why would I be?"

Bash sighed. "I'm sorry."

"It's fine," she said shakily before slipping an arm around his waist.

Bash returned the gesture, his arm over her shoulders as he pressed a kiss to her cheek. "I'm sorry," he repeated.

She shook her head, her eyes stinging with tears. "This is the last thing I need. Aunt Marie's ill, I'm planning a full arse royal wedding mostly by myself, I'm tired all the time and I barely even know the man I'm marrying."

"Mary's mother's sick?"

Kenna nodded sadly. "I only said it as a joke - the thing about a wedding, a death and a baby. But it's coming to pass and it's because I can't shut my big mouth up. I always jinx everything."

"I'm sure things were just a coincidence," Bash said. "Mind you, my maternal side is superstitious so you might want to hold back at times."

She chuckled. "I'll take that into consideration," she said. "Olivia came around the other day."

Bash tensed up. "How does she know where we live?"

"Oh, not to the house. To the townhouse," she said. "She seemed very familiar with it."

"Well, she _might_ be the first woman to..."

"I know - Valentine's party and everything," Kenna told him. "But that's not what's bothering me."

She retrieved her phone from her bag and unlocked it, heading to her photo gallery and showing him a picture. She didn't seem upset when Bash studied it before turning to her but she gave him a little smile.

"I know she's a little cuckoo, your sisters vouched for that one," she told him. "Why didn't you tell me she forced herself onto you?"

"You would have believed me?"

"I'm believing you, aren't I?"

"Thanks for your faith in me," Bash replied.

Kenna shrugged. "You're welcome. I hope we can be trusting of each other. We can tell each other things."

"Everything?"

Kenna knew that was coming. "Eighteen days until we get married. I will tell you between now and then. But now? I'm not ready."

"I'll hold you to that."

"I never break a promise, Sebastian."

"We'll see, Mckenna."

...

Mary turned in surprise at the sound of Henry calling her. She walked up to him and curtseyed but he quickly reached out to stop her, emitting glances from a few staff.

"Don't do that on my account," he told her, linking their arms and patting the back of her hand as they walked away from earshot. "How are you feeling?"

"The morning sickness is getting better," she replied. "Why are you here at Versailles?"

Henry stopped them and turned to face her. "Have you read this morning's news article?"

"From the French Times?" Mary asked, slightly worried.

"No. The 'Daily French' newspaper," Henry replied with a heavy sigh. "Someone leaked the baby news."

Mary froze. "Who?"

"I don't know, I have people on that," he said. "But you and Francis need to own the narrative. A press conference in front of Fontainebleau should do it."

Mary sighed. "I was meant to go dress hunting with Kenna today. To take my mind off my mother's hospitalisation."

"I'm truly sorry, Mary. Francis is already at Fontainebleau - he had matters to attend to with one of his outreach projects from Church. I will have Narcisse write up a speech, everything will be fine."

Mary blinked tears away, cursing her hormones for making her so emotional. At least they had all of these weeks in peace. They hadn't even reached thirteen weeks yet although that was pressing too close to the wedding. Perhaps, now was a better choice.

"Do I need to dress for the occasion?" She asked. She had been wearing A-line dresses, not wanting anyone to study her bump with magnifying glasses.

"Catherine suggested something blue. Along the lines of the French flag," he said. "Something that accents your bump and when you enter, be at one with it. Cradle it lovingly, smile brightly as if your life is dedicated to this little growing human being."

"That's the easy part," Mary said lightly.

Henry sighed. "I know you're worried about Marie and this is the last thing you need but things will get easier. At least all the drama has stopped and my wife has been put in her place."

She gave him a wry smile. "What do you remember about my father?"

Henry smiled fondly. "He was one of the best men I knew," he said honestly. "Seeing you grow, I know he would have been proud. You're a splendid young woman, Mary and you put all the other young women to shame. I know that your father is looking out for you. God works in mysterious ways."

"If Francis and I have a son, do you mind if we name him after my father?" She asked shyly. "We were going to ask but we didn't want to be rude so Francis told me to hold off."

Henry laughed. "A name is just a name at the end of the day but one needs a strong name if they will be the future monarch of a big country," he told her. "_James_ is a very strong name and it is the name of a man who saved my life many times when we were young men. King James sounds very fitting, doesn't it?"

Mary nodded with a small smile. "It does," she whispered.

"Just for the love of God, do not name the child after Catherine if it's a girl," he told her. "Her ego is big enough already. Save that for your seventh child at least. I am very glad we've come a long way from naming every child under the sun the same name."

She laughed, rolling her eyes. "Wise advice," she said. "Thank you for coming to tell me the news personally. You best get back to Fontainebleau."

"I will," he said, about to leave. "Quick thing."

"Yes?"

"If you were to become Queen Consort today, what will you do?"

Mary frowned. "I'm sorry?"

"Answer the question, please," Henry said.

Mary smiled a little. "I will support Francis the best I can. My duty will be to him first and then France."

"Good answer," Henry replied. "A man's success has a lot to do with the kind of woman he chooses to have in his life." He gave her a warm smile before he finally left, leaving Mary standing there in confusion.

She shook her head to herself and headed upstairs to the King's State Apartments. She jumped when she saw Clarissa waiting for her, dressed in a security guard's get up.

"Hi," she greeted the other woman. "It's been a while since I saw you."

Clarissa smiled. "I was with relatives. I got transferred to Versailles."

"Can we speak inside?"

"Of course, Your Highness," Clarissa replied.

When they were settled in the living room, Mary poured them both some tea and offered Clarissa biscuits to which she rejected politely.

"You called for me?" Clarissa asked.

Mary nodded. "I was wondering where you were when Francis and I returned."

"My family hadn't seen me in a while. I was enjoying my break from the Royal Family and their complicated lives," Clarissa replied. "Why-"

"I know who you are. Who you _really_ are."

Clarissa nodded. "I see," she said, sipping her tea. "Will you tell Francis?"

"Didn't you want to tell him yourself?"

Clarissa paused for a bit. "Yes, but now is not the time."

"Why not?"

"I'm leaving the first week of January. I've joined the French Royal Navy."

"In your father's footsteps," Mary said.

Clarissa nodded at her response. "It's a fitting idea. A smart one."

"Francis deserves to know who you are," Mary argued gently. "You've already established a relationship-"

"The King knows who I am," Clarissa stated. "And he's allowed me to live with them in peace. But now, I've overstayed my welcome. My mother is a complicated woman, but she can't protect me from what may come. I need to go before shit hits the fan."

"Like what?"

"I don't know," Clarissa said. "Anything, I guess. Anything that can reveal to people about who I am. I need to leave before then. An outsider to the Royal Family will be stripped bare and judged harshly. It doesn't even matter who you are, but they will get to you and use the people you love against you. Be careful Mary."

Mary frowned deeply. "I will."

Clarissa sighed heavily. "I fear that Catherine may not have stopped her reign of terror. Watch your back."

"I will," Mary replied. She may be carrying the future heir to the throne but Catherine could still get to Mary and her friends if they stepped one foot out of line.

She will never let her guard down.

...

Mary tried not to blink too much as the flashing lights were on them from cameras. She felt Francis grip her hand gently as they walked up to the podium as the reporters gathered in front of the gates.

There were guards on each side, even some police presence but everyone was calm, excited and happy more than threatening or invaders of space. It was just extra precaution. Nobody wanted _anything_ to happen to France's little heir.

"Thank you for coming, everyone," Francis said, sending her a quick encouraging smile. "Almost twelve weeks ago, I made the beautiful woman beside me, my wife. Recently, she became more than just my wife. I stand here, beside her and in the presence of my parents, King Henry and Queen Catherine to announce that the Duchess of Anjou and I will be parents next Summer."

Everyone applauded and some swooned when Mary began to rub her growing bump, making sure that all camera angles got the Duchess of Anjou and future heir to the throne on show. This was front cover news, this could cover the whole next two or four pages.

"We are very excited," Mary began. "It is a new start for the Dauphin and I and we are eternally grateful for all the support we have been receiving from our family, friends and most of all you, the public. I know that many women out there could tell, mothers always had that intuition that I hope to hone one day when I become a mother to our baby. I am blessed to have such role models as my mother, Duchess Marie de Guise and my mother-in-law, Queen Catherine to help guide me and mould me into a wonderful mother this baby deserves."

"We thank you all for your never-ending support and love for us and we cannot wait to have you all join us on our journey to becoming parents," Francis said. "Unfortunately, we do not have time to answer any questions but I can clearly say that both mother and baby are doing swimmingly well."

Mary giggled and beamed when Francis placed a loving hand on her bump. The media were eating it up but neither of them cared as she stared into his eyes happily. Their moment may have been shared but right now, Mary felt as if this whole world just contained her, Francis and their unborn child. They were in their own little bubble and it was burst when Henry came over to thank everyone for their patience and gathering so soon before having them ushered back into Fontainebleau to return home to Versailles.

"That was wonderful," Henry said as he was seeing them off to their car. He turned to Francis. "Mary's getting better at this than we did at our first announcements."

Francis grinned at his wife. "She's a natural."

"Never let her go," Henry told his son before kissing his cheek and Mary's hand. "Adieu."

He headed back inside, leaving Mary to kiss Francis softly.

"I'm kind of relieved that we don't have to hide our child anymore," she whispered.

"Same," he replied. "It hurts not being able to rub them in public. You look beautiful, by the way, Blue really suits you."

"You say that for any colour I wear!"

"Maybe it's because I can see our child growing so clearly now," he said, bending down to press a kiss against her tummy. "I did say pregnant women turned me on."

"I hope you only refer to _me_?"

Francis chuckled, coming back up to meet her lips for a kiss. "Of course, mon trésor."

"Should I be wary?" Mary asked, laughing.

"No..."

"Francis!"

"I only have eyes for one pregnant woman," he said, chuckling as she kissed him. "You."

...

That evening, Mary had a surprise in the form of a majordomo. Apparently, Versailles had wings rented out but Mary and Francis 'owned' seventy-five per cent of the chateau.

"Marc _Jones_?" Mary repeated, reading his name from his dossier file. "English?"

"Yes, Your Highness. Specifically, French-English," he said. "The King thought it would be fitting to start you early on running a household."

Mary blushed. "I thought things ran itself," she mumbled to herself mostly. "I see."

Jones chuckled. "The dinner menus, the wine lists, the flower arrangements. That sort of thing. Versailles is your little kingdom, for now, practice makes perfect."

"Before I help run a whole damn country?" Mary asked lightly.

"Well, if you put it that way," Jones replied with a smile. "I am here to make your life easier. You call the shots, I perform them and run things on your behalf but Your Highness gets the final say."

"Not Francis?" Mary asked coyly, flicking through the dossier.

Jones grinned wryly. "Behind every great man is a great woman."

"Good answer," Mary said, giggling. "What is your opinion of me?"

Jones faltered in confusion. "I'm sorry, Ma'am?"

"What do you, Mr Jones, think about _me_?"

"I think you are a talented, caring young woman," the older man replied.

"We're going to be working together on a day-to-day basis," Mary began, throwing the dossier onto the table between them. "I have no room for people who are opinionated against me."

Jones nodded in understanding. "I see," he replied. "Well, I see a future queen, Your Highness. I have done my own research on you. One of the tops of your classes, very sporty and academically clever, nurturing, friendly, elegant and you keep things classy. I can't say the same for one of your friends, regarding 'class'."

"You researched my friends?"

"I have to know who we're letting into your household," Jones replied.

Mary clicked her tongue. "Well, I'd rather you not judge my friends like a book by its cover," was her reply. "You're hired."

"I was already hired," Jones said, amused.

Mary shrugged. "Well, didn't you say that I had the final say?"

Jones was stunned. "I... I did, indeed, Your Highness."

Mary chuckled, holding her hand out to him. "Well, welcome aboard."

"Thank you," he replied, shaking it.

"Does this mean that you work exclusively for _me_?" Mary asked.

Jones nodded. "Ultimately, I follow your orders but should His Majesty require me to, I will follow his instructions."

"Not the Queen's?"

"Not the Queen's," Jones affirmed. "The King believed someone of your background should be fitting. Half-French, half-English. Well, _British_, shall I put it?"

Mary nodded. "Say, if the Queen came and put something suspicious in my food or drink, you would be obliged to tell me?"

"Of course!" Jones said. "Especially as you're carrying the second in line to the throne. Harmful or not, I serve _you_."

Mary beamed happily. "Wonderful. Shall we get started on the dinner menus? I believe it's time for a change."

"May I suggest adding more Scottish cuisine to the menu?"

"Jones?"

"Yes, Ma'am?"

"I believe you and I are going to get along very well," Mary told him, nodding approvingly.

It had been eighty-one days since she became the Dauphine of France and finally, things were being changed to accommodate her. It was a huge weight off her shoulders, the feeling of homesickness arising after her mother's illness confession.

Despite being an orphan in the near future, things were looking up.


	12. Ever Tried Sleeping With A Broken Heart?

**Well, a little drama down below. Let me clarify, in the show, there was a forced marriage. Well, in the twenty-first century, people can say 'no'. I'll say no more regarding that. More Frary moments down below and we say 'goodbye' to one character.**

* * *

Kenna curled up on the sofa, sipping her hot chocolate. She'd made it from scratch, her tongue savouring the taste as Olenna settled herself into Kenna's side. It was late, past two in the morning and Bash hadn't returned from his outing with the guys. Francis declined their offer, being the perfect husband and future father he was so Bash had to accept to make up for his brother's lack of presence in their friends' lives.

She sighed, rolling her eyes when she heard Leith whisper-yelling in the foyer, telling everyone to be quiet. She got up from her seat, disturbing the dog and headed to the kitchen to start prepping paracetamols and water for the hangovers they most certainly would have.

Like moths to light, the men stumbled into the kitchen except for Bash who waltzed in, unfazed by the alcohol in his system. His eyes met Kenna's and she looked away, lifting two cups and placing them in front of the Varga brothers before collecting the last one for Leith.

"You didn't have to," Bash said softly.

"No, she didn't," Leith began. "But thank you, Kenna. You're a star!" He blew her a kiss and a cheeky wink with it.

The brothers mumbled their thanks and accepted the pills from her as Leith fell asleep, his head landing on the counter island and he started to snore.

Kenna turned her gaze to Bash and noted the blood on the cuff of his wrist. "You're bleeding," she stated, heading towards the cabinet to get a first aid kit.

"It's not my blood," Bash said.

"Then, one of you-"

"It's neither of ours," Bash mumbled, heading out of the kitchen.

Kenna sighed and replaced the kit before turning to the three men. "Miranda will show you to your rooms," she told them, gesturing for the security guard to enter the kitchen. "If they give you any trouble, let me know."

"We'll be on our good behaviour, Kenna," Julien promised her, giving her a wink. "We'll sleep it off."

"Hmm," she huffed. "If you plan to spend the seven days until my wedding drunk, then you have another thing coming."

Remy pulled a face. "I don't think I have it in me to drink until then. In fact-" He got up and rushed to the sink to throw up.

Kenna shook her head and left the kitchen, heading upstairs to Bash's bedroom. It was his insistence that they keep separate rooms. He put it down to his snoring and she put it down to him being annoyed at her for the situation at Avon when she and his mother transformed the townhouse.

It was still their room but not until they were married.

She found him taking his shirt off.

"Whose blood was it?"

"I got into a fight. It was dealt with by my team," he said, coming over to peck her cheek as he passed to enter the bathroom.

"From the lack of bruises and cuts on you, I'd say he didn't fight back," she said.

"I'm disciplined in Martial Arts," he said. "I saw him coming."

"Tell me you didn't find the guy who groped my arse," she said, running her fingers through her hair.

Bash peeked out the window. "Not everything's about you."

"So, that text after it happened didn't mean anything?"

"I texted Max to bring the car around," he said.

Kenna nodded. "Riiiight," she drawled out. The car did arrive five minutes after. "Can I sleep with you tonight?"

"No," he replied, turning the shower on.

She entered the bathroom in time to see him step into the shower. "But I need to talk to you."

"About what?"

"What we were talking about _after_ I was groped," she replied.

Bash paused. "Give me five minutes."

By the time he was done and dressed into his boxers, he found Kenna cross-legged on his bed. He sat beside her and turned to her, offering her his hand. She took it and he kissed it.

"You're right," she mumbled with a shrug. "I guess I'll be the first princess that's bulimic."

"Shit," Bash mumbled.

"Yeah," she whispered. "I was fourteen and I went shopping with my mum. I saw her try on this pretty dress. It hugged her in all the right places and I remember feeling like I would never be that. Beautiful. Or perfectly shaped. The first time I did it, it was strange like it was wrong but I had to do it. So I started buying smaller sizes so I could have a goal and when I'd reach that goal, I'd want my body to be something else like some celebrities own bodies. Curvy, thin, thick, whatever... It was a vicious cycle that I've stopped. I've not done that since two years ago. I guess I just can't stop buying dresses that are small for me though."

"D-Do you need help or...?"

"No," she breathed out, closing her eyes. "I don't, I guess? I eat when I want to nowadays, it's not like I'm throwing it back up. I keep it down, I just don't find the time in my schedule to eat. This wedding doesn't help things. I've seen other brides, Mary even, and they're beautiful and spectacular and I'm... I'll be ugly."

Bash laughed. "God, you must be so blind."

"What?"

"Come," he said, getting up and pulling her up with him. He led her into the wardrobe and positioned her in front of the mirror. He looked at her face and noticed that her eyes were closed. "Kenna..."

Kenna opened her eyes and sighed, giving him a look through the mirror. "What?"

"Do you see what I see?"

"No...?"

"I see perfection," he whispered into her ear, his fingers untying the laces of her pyjama shorts. "We may not have known each other for very long, but I know that beauty is inside and not based on looks or popularity. You're exquisite. You're _perfect_ to me, shouldn't that count?"

Kenna shrugged. "I guess. But shouldn't it count to _me_?"

"You're right," he said, taking a seat on one of the pouffes. "Go on."

"What?" She said.

"Strip."

Kenna laughed in disbelief. "You're joking."

"Do I look like I am?" He asked. "What are you waiting for? It's not like I haven't seen it all already."

"Sebastian!"

"Mckenna," he replied coyly. "Please?"

Kenna smirked. "I like it when you beg."

"How about this?" He asked, getting back up. "For every item of clothing you take off, I take off one too."

Kenna eyed his body. "You're only wearing your boxers."

"Exactly," he whispered, capturing her lips in a quick kiss. "I'll even let you take them off."

Kenna blushed. "Fine."

...

Mary rubbed her bump lovingly and turned to face Francis who watched her with a smile on his face. She grinned at him and turned back to the mirror, moving side to side to inspect her small bump from all angles.

"It's so surreal," she breathed out.

"It's so beautiful," her husband said. "I'm sorry you couldn't be Kenna's maid of honour."

Mary shrugged. "Well, Kenna and Bash wanted to be modern since she couldn't have me as maid of honour, so they decided to cut the whole bridal party thing out. So, _I'm_ sorry you couldn't be Bash's best man."

Francis chuckled. "Let me guess, next they'll want a hippy tent in their garden so we can all join hands and tell each other what we love about each other and sing 'Kumbaya'?"

Mary pulled a face. "I love Kenna but sometimes I questioned her 'bohemian' ways. At least she wears shoes more now."

"She never wore shoes?"

Mary frowned before giggling. "No, I mean, she _loves_ shoes. Obsessed with Louboutins but sometimes when she's in the mood, she kicks them off and let's loose. It's actually quite exhilarating. Running around the countryside fields, barefoot and screaming to release all of those pent up feelings."

"Were there many pent up feelings in Scotland?" Francis asked her.

Mary sighed, taking a seat on the bed by his feet. "Scotland was great, don't get me wrong but it was boring being just Mum and me. Now, I regret saying that because it will be just _me_."

"Do you want to talk about it?"

Mary shrugged. "As I said before, I was with my head down, working hard. My social circle was limited to the girls and I rarely went places. I'm a bit of an ordinary girl. Boring, plain..."

"After we have this baby in our arms, I will whisk you off to do exciting things," Francis promised her, kissing her neck. "Trust me, life in France will be anything _but_ boring."

"I'll hold you to that," Mary said, crawling onto the bed and pushing him down against their pillows.

"Oh," Francis said coyly.

Mary pressed a finger against his lips. "Hush," she said, leaning down and pressing a soft kiss on the side of his neck. He shivered under her touch and she whispered into his ear, "You're so good to me..."

Francis shifted his head so their lips met but she pulled away. "Why did you pull-"

Mary kissed his jawline and then his neck. Her fingers worked on lifting his shirt up and over his head as she pressed kisses on his collarbone. "Just... be patient."

"I'm never patient," he said lightly, his eyes closing as her lips trailed down lower. "Not when it comes to you..."

Mary giggled against his skin and he let out a moan, her nails caressing his chest. "Patience, my love... _Patience_-"

"Can go fu-"

There was a knock on the door and Francis cursed, leaving the bed where Mary covered her nightie with her robe and waited patiently. Francis opened the door and found Jones standing outside.

"King's orders, Your Highness," he said, holding a tray of some liquid in a glass cup. "For the Dauphine."

"What is it?" Mary asked, joining them at the door.

Jones bowed his head, moving the tray closer to her. "Vitamin juice. To be taken nightly at promptly 2 AM - the Queen swears by it. King Henry thought it was fitting as it's a family recipe which helped the Queen have nine successful births."

Mary gave her husband a look before accepting the glass and drinking it whole. "It won't kill me?" She asked lightly, staring at the last few drops.

"Too late to ask," Francis replied, kissing the side of her head. "Thank you, Jones."

"Yes," Mary said, placing the glass on the tray. "Thank you, Mr Jones."

Jones bowed low before leaving the couple to their peace.

Closing the door, Francis turned around and was shoved against it, his wife's lips attacking his skin. He laughed, moving his arms around her waist as she sucked and nipped at him.

"Too horny," he teased her.

"Yeah, well, yesterday was spent mostly apart, me dealing with household shit and showing off our baby bump to the world. After the announcement, I couldn't wait to take you to our bed," Mary breathed out, kissing him hard. "Damn, maroon looked good on you."

"I'm glad you thought so," Francis said, laughing.

"Everything looks good on you."

Francis raised his eyebrows. "Even baby vomit?"

Mary playfully swooned. "Oh, even _hotter_."

She yelped when he lifted her into his arms and deposited her on the bed, this time ravaging _her_ body. She sighed wistfully, closing her eyes as his lips trailed down low.

Impatiently, she took her robe and nightie off and kicked her underwear off just as Francis shed his own trousers and boxers. She felt his lips on her skin and she looked down at him when his lips lingered on her womb.

Smiling, she entwined her fingers through his blonde curls and sighed happily, laying her head back down. "I'm scared."

"I'm scared too," he said, against her skin. "But we'll get through this. We'll be the best parents in the world. I'll keep reminding you that."

Mary nodded. "Thank you, Francis."

"You're welcome, Mary," Francis replied before resuming kissing her skin.

...

The day before Kenna and Bash's wedding, Kenna was hit with the French media attacking her. Greer sat down beside Kenna and began reading out the articles one by one, scandalous title after scandalous title.

"'Sex-Obsessed Scottish Comtessa'," she began nervously, watching Kenna cover her face. "_'Former sexual partners of the Comtessa de Barton and future Duchess of Orléans, Mckenna Beaton have come out to say that she is very vain and demanding. She does not care for other people as she works to get what she wants. She is manipulative and could very well ruin the French Royal Family with her promiscuous ways. Text messages between her and her lovers on the love app, 'ForeignHeart' are filled with disgusting, degrading and sexual content. Is this really who we want in our Royal Family?'_"

Kenna shook her head in shock. "They must have hacked my app! But I deleted it."

"Well, now those men you slept with know who you really are," Mary said, sighing as she rubbed her bump. "Even the women who you had threesomes with."

"Oh my God," Kenna whined. "What is wrong with me?"

Lola winced when she saw the next one. " 'Drugs, Sex & Alcohol, Inside the Dauphine's Promiscuous Lady's Ways'."

"Dear God, what have they found now?" Kenna asked, grabbing the tablet for herself. "_'The Scots may have won the hearts of the French, but not this one. This one will never be a true Princess of France. Sources from Scotland inform us that the Comtessa de Barton is a hedonistic, vain siren who preys on men and women of every class and breaks them. Mckenna Beaton now has her eyes set on our recently revealed Baron of Avon and Duke of Orléans, Sébastien, the son of King Henry VI and his first queen, the Archduchess of Avon, Diane de Poitiers. If Mckenna can't have a king, she will settle for a prince. She is nothing but a gold-digging whore who deserves to be cast out of the royal chateau right this minute. Many of the people say that if this marriage comes to pass, she will destroy our beacon of happiness, the Royal Family. She will damn them to hell and nothing will ever be the same again. Do we really need a cocaine addictive harlot in the family? Or a woman obsessed with the taste of alcohol, drank from the bellybuttons of random men? Lord only knows what other things she has hidden in her closet full of skeletons. We for one, do not care nor want that closet to reside in France. She has got to go!'_"

Mary took the tablet for herself, shaking her head. "You've never taken drugs in your whole life. Have you?"

"Mary, you know me!" Kenna snapped. "I haven't. I don't do that to my body. Sex, well... And the alcohol part? That was Aylee's ex-boyfriend's birthday party and she convinced us all to drink from his disgusting bellybutton. Not my finest moment and I don't know how on Earth they could have got that story and photo."

"They probably paid him a lot," Greer muttered. "Oh, this title's lovely - 'Many People of the Public Believe Scottish Slut Will Destroy the Royal Family!'"

"_How_ is that lovely?" Kenna asked angrily.

"It's not," Greer replied with a smirk. "But it's funny." She giggled. "This one's my favourite - 'Scottish Bitch Really Does Prefer THIS Sex Position!'. Ooh, I want to know what sex position you prefer! Let's read on-"

"Greer!" Mary cried out before taking the tablet and snorting at one. " 'Who Let This Woman into the Chateau?'. Simple and straight to the point."

Lola laughed. "It's true!"

Greer continued with, "'Scottish Slut Strikes Again! Photos Taken From University Days Show Alarming Scenes!'" She clicked her tongue. "And... it goes on for quite a while."

Kenna's eyes watered. "What a coincidence that it's the day before my wedding..." She whispered. "It's got to be Catherine."

Mary winced. "Catherine's been on her good behaviour since we told everyone the baby news," she admitted softly. "Who else have you wronged?"

Kenna rolled her eyes. "Well, Olivia couldn't steal your husband so she forced herself onto my future one!"

"It can't have been Olivia," Lola said, checking Olivia's social media profile. "Olivia has been in Malaguf for four weeks now."

"Then one of the Evil Sisters? Elisabeth or Claude?" Kenna asked, exasperated.

"Francis said they don't care about Bash," Mary said. "Why would they bother discrediting his fiancée? They gain nothing from that."

Kenna let out a frustrated scream before she sat down and covered her face. "I should have just gone back to Scotland."

"Don't say that-"

"No," Kenna whispered, turning to Mary. "I thought I could be like you and dive right into royal life but that's not the case. You've been trained since you were born and I... I was meant for some millionaire with no spare time on his hands. I was meant for the life of a dog mother!"

"A what?"

Lola chuckled a little. "A woman who has pets as children, not human babies."

"I don't want canine babies," Kenna said, crying. "I want a great man, someone who will be there for me and look after me and raise children with... I never thought I'd get that until I met Bash. He's... He's the best thing to ever happen to me. Even if he hasn't said he loved me yet."

The women gasped, turning to Kenna. Even Marie peeked up from her magazine where Kenna's face was plastered on with horrible yellow lettering above it.

"Bash hasn't said that he loves you?" Greer asked her. "But _why_?"

"We thought you guys were getting along," Lola said. "That it was love at first sight! More or less..."

Kenna sighed. "He wanted to wait, to get to know each other better," she said. "If it were up to him, we wouldn't get married this soon. Or at all because I may not be the one for him."

Mary frowned, taking Kenna's hands in hers. "I know how much you wanted that fairytale love life."

Kenna smiled wryly. "At least he's gorgeous."

Mary smiled back, brushing Kenna's hair away from her eyes. "But it won't feel _right_. That's just settling for someone."

"It's my fault. None of this would have happened if I hadn't slept with Henry, making Bash reveal himself to the world as my fiancé..." Kenna sighed heavily. "I know I'm not like most girls, I'm stupid when it comes to relationships but I know what's inside my heart. It flutters, jumps and leaps when he's around me. The little looks, smiles and touches... Bash just makes everything better. Food, water, wine, TV, movies, whatever... Everything is just perfect."

"Maybe, he'll grow to love you," Marie piped up, coming closer to sit on Kenna's other side. "I'll be honest, James and I did love each other but we weren't _in love_ when we got married."

Mary gasped. "What?"

"We fell in love along the way. It was out of the blue," Marie began, beaming happily as she stared off into the distance. "One day, he returned home from work with a bunch of blue orchids and he kissed me. I felt everything he wanted to say in that kiss and when he pulled away, he said 'I love you'. Mind you, I'd heard it many times before but there was something different about that one."

Mary's eyes watered as she smiled. "What was different?"

"He saw _me_," Marie whispered, turning back to the girls. "He. Saw. Me. He could read my mind after that. He didn't even have to ask if I wanted tea before he made it. Hell, sometimes I didn't know I needed something before he was there with it. I'd be thinking, my feet hurt from my heels and he'll already be rubbing them. He'd have a cigar in his mouth and the radio on... He'd look at me and tell Jaques to grab me a bunch of sunflower seeds to munch on. Then Jaques will hug me and James would take photos and we'd all be listening to Mary in my stomach..."

...

_Almost Twenty-One Years Ago_

"Mama Marie, what do you want?" James Jr asked sweetly.

Marie chuckled. "I am fine, Jaques-"

"Get your stepmother that lemonade," James told his son, pressing a quick kiss to the boy's head before they watched him rush to the kitchen. "You look parched, my love."

Marie blushed furiously. "I don't want to be any trouble."

"Not at all!" James said, pressing a kiss to her feet as he continued to rub them. "You're carrying our child, Maria."

"_Marie_," Marie said firmly.

"Has anyone ever told your family that you have too many Maries? I hope to God our child has a different variation if she's a girl."

Marie chuckled. "James! I could say the same for you!"

James blushed. "Well, it's different."

"No, it's not!"

James's eyes sparkled. "I love you."

Marie scoffed. "You're saying that to get me to drop this," she said knowingly.

James grinned. "Did it work?"

Marie shrugged a little. "Maybe."

"I love you, Marie of Guise."

"So old-fashioned!" Marie cried out, laughing.

"Go on, do the same."

"I love you too, James of Clan Stuart," she replied with her thick but lighter accent. "Would you want more?"

James frowned. "More what?"

"Children."

James laughed. "I want five children with you, Marie. And they will play with Junior in the garden. Although, I did say that I'd want a football team full of my children..."

"Don't you dare think about that," Marie said, giggling. "Two is enough. A boy, Jaques and a girl, Marie."

"How do you know she's a girl?"

"Because she's already her father's world," Marie whispered, kissing him. "Deep down you know that too, mon amour."

...

_Present Day_

"A month later, he died," Marie whispered, her cheeks stained with falling tears but a smile on her face. "The pain lessens but it never leaves."

Kenna smiled warmly. "I hope to have a beautiful love like yours."

"Just give it time," Marie told her. "He'll get there. It's always the men."

The door opened and Francis entered with Bash behind him, his phone on his ear.

"They're everywhere," Francis said with a wince. "It's like Kennagate has gone off!"

"They've given it a name," Kenna whispered in shock. "Make it stop!"

"My mother has insisted that it isn't palace matters. It's personal," Francis admitted. "She likened you to a socialite who can solve her own problems."

Lola turned to Kenna. "You should probably get your parents to call the family lawyers."

"They're flying in tonight!" Kenna cried out. "This is the last thing I want them to arrive in France and see. My brothers and sisters will be here as well and... everything's ruined."

Bash ended his call. "Not exactly," he said. "I've just spoken to my aide, he had my team correspond with Fontainebleau's behind Catherine's back."

"And?" Mary demanded.

"We know who sold the stories," Bash said, pausing after.

Everyone gave him a look and he smirked.

"I like dramatic pauses," he said.

"Bash, if you want to marry me tomorrow, you better start talking otherwise I'll be marrying a ghost," Kenna warned him, getting up and crossing her arms.

Bash winked at her. "It was Claude."

"Wait, _Claude_?" Francis asked. "But why?"

"Yes, why?" Mary asked as well.

Bash sighed. "I don't have that answer but I believe it has something to do with Lissie."

"Of course," Kenna muttered. "This has nothing to do with Bash but _me_."

"Don't flatter yourself-"

"For once, it's not about you," Francis teased his brother before turning to Kenna. "Go on, Comtessa."

Kenna released a breath. "Elisabeth has always been in Mary's case since we arrived. The dead rat on the pillow, the blood everywhere and the little mishaps like ruining her dress at that dinner party with the family... I may have _not_ stopped at dying her hair before the wedding..."

Mary glared at her. "What. Did. You. Do?"

"I paid her boyfriend to dump her?" Kenna squeaked out.

"Kenna!" Mary cried out.

"Please, tell me you are joking," Marie told her niece.

Kenna shook her head with a wince. "I overheard her at the wedding, she wasn't saying very flattering things about Mary and me to the guests," she began, fiddling with her nails. "And her boyfriend was right there, talking to that French Instagram model, LoLo Jouer. I may have encouraged him with some money to get with LoLo and dump Elisabeth. I mean, his family aren't that wealthy anyway so I did her a favour!"

"You can't be playing with people's lives, Kenna," Greer said. "You said you'd stop that when we were sixteen!"

"This isn't the first time?" Bash asked, alarmed.

Kenna raised her hands up in defence. "Money is power," she said. "I use it to do good. For me mostly, but still."

"Jesus," Francis muttered. "I will speak to her and try and find her new boyfriend to play around with before she gets bored and dumps that one herself."

"I'm sorry," Kenna said, not really meaning it.

"Kenna..." Bash said warningly.

"Well, she shouldn't really go around bad mouthing the future Queen of France, should she? Honestly, the women in your family are psychopaths! I fear for Henrietta and Emone's futures."

Lola coughed. "You should stop talking."

"Yes," Bash said to his fiancée. "Less talking and more trying to figure out how to save our public image. Well, _mine_ considering I'm marrying a..." He took the tablet from Greer's hands. "Hedonistic, vain siren." He scrolled down some more. "And a gold-digging whore."

"You should really stop there, love."

"You too, darling."

"Awh," Kenna tutted before turning away from him. "Just let's get this all sorted out before my family arrive."

...

Mary walked around Kenna, admiring the dress from every angle. She took her time these days, studying things and remembering them. Every little moment, every little memory in preparation of her baby. She'll remember everything, all the nights and days and the moments she spent with her loved ones.

"Beautiful," she said. "Right, ladies?"

Lola and Greer nodded with smiles of their own.

"It will be one of us next," Greer said. "Dear Lord, we're dropping like flies."

"It's not so bad!" Mary laughed. "Being married is wonderful. Like Heaven but on Earth."

Lola grinned. "Somebody took too many happy pills this morning," she said. "Or is it that nightly vitamin drink Catherine has you on?"

"How do you know about that?"

"We were coming to see you at two in the morning about today but saw your little butler running about with the drink," Greer told her.

"He's a majordomo," Mary corrected them. "Anyway, I'm striving to always be happy from now on. I'm going to be a mother, I want my child to grow up in a happy environment."

"That's nice," Kenna said. "We should all strive to be happier these days."

Mary nodded. "Especially with my mother..." She took a shaky breath, her eyes watering. "I'm sorry-"

"No," Kenna said, hugging her as Lola and Greer joined them. "Don't be. At least you'll have Christmas with her tomorrow."

Mary swallowed deeply, fanning her eyes. "I will," she said, sniffling. "I promised myself no tears."

"Do you need to cry it all out?" Kenna asked, already gesturing for the girls to encircle their arms around the Dauphine.

"Before I know it, my mother will be gone and I'll be a mother myself," Mary said, using a tissue to dab at her eyes. She was glad for waterproof mascara. "I'm proud of all of us."

Greer grinned. "We're proud of us too!"

They laughed, tightening their grip before letting go so Kenna's dress didn't get ruined. They helped the bride fix it and stood back to admire their job well done at helping the bride. Not that the make up artist and hairstylist didn't do their bit but as the best friends of the bride, their job was the most important of them all.

"Time for the First Look," Mary said. "Are you ready?"

Kenna shrugged. "I don't know," she mumbled. "I'm anxious."

"That's perfectly normal," Lola said. "I'm sure your family assured you earlier?"

"They did."

"Then, the only thing left is to bring married life on," Greer told her.

...

"Can I turn around?" Bash asked nervously.

Kenna grinned and nodded before realising that he couldn't see her. That was the whole point. She walked up to him and placed her hands gently onto his shoulders, pressing a soft kiss on the back of his neck that smelt of her favourite cologne on him. It made him shiver and she giggled.

Stepping back, she said, "Take a look."

Bash took a moment before he slowly turned to face her. "It's very _you_."

Kenna sighed, crossing her arms. "Is that all you've got?"

Bash smirked. "Of course not," he told her, keeping his distance. "If I touched you, we might not even make it inside the chapel."

Kenna blushed. "Oh?"

"You're breathtaking, Kenna," he said. "You make a beautiful bride."

Kenna's eyes left his own and she blinked her tears away. "Really?"

"Today's not the time for insecurities, Mckenna," Bash said, coming over to lift her chin up so their eyes met again. "Remember last week?"

Kenna shakily nodded. "I do."

"Just remember that," he said, ghosting his lips over hers.

She needed him, needed to close the gap but he looked away just as the door opened and Narcisse stepped inside. Kenna mentally cursed the man but she guessed she'd rather save that kiss for when they were Man and Wife.

Bash cleared his throat and stepped back, letting Narcisse fix his honours on his suit. "I guess we should be glad that this is shorter than Francis and Mary's wedding."

Kenna nodded with a small smile. "Still a long arse ceremony."

"Yeah," he said, meeting her eyes before Kenna's father entered the room. "I guess I should go inside."

Kenna gave him a wink. "See you soon, lover."

...

Francis took Mary's hand and kissed the back of it. She had been feeling better lately, the second trimester coming underway. But that meant her appetite had returned and now, she craved food. And a lot of it.

"Why does this wedding have to be so long?" Mary muttered. "No offence to my best friend and your brother, but-"

"Baby wants to eat every single minute?" Francis asked, amused.

Mary nodded. "Baby _and_ Mama." She rubbed her bump. "Kenna asked for a chocolate wedding cake. She knows how I feel about chocolate cake."

"You hate it?"

"No," Mary whined. "I love it and I really want it. All of it."

"I don't think the bride and groom would appreciate that," her husband said, laughing quietly.

Mary shrugged. "They love me, they'll get over it."

The couple stood with everyone else when Henry and Catherine entered. They took their time before they finally sat down on their thrones and waited for the proceedings to begin.

Before they sat down, Francis and Mary rose again out of respect for Diane who wore the largest evening hat of them all. It was French blue with diamonds and it covered half of her face. Henry stood up to offer her his arm which she took begrudgingly and allowed him to lead her to her seat beside him. She ignored Catherine's terse smile and Francis and Mary shared a wary look.

They sat down and watched as Narcisse led Bash down the aisle, positioning him on the right side in front of the Archbishop where the groom and Archbishop shook hands and engaged in small talk.

Mary looked around and her eyes landed on Francis's youngest sibling, Louis. He pulled a face and she returned the gesture, making him laugh much to his older sisters' annoyance. He scowled at Lissie and Claude and was calmed down by Margo.

"I wonder if our child will be as cheeky as your brother, Louis," Mary whispered to Francis.

Francis grinned. "Loulou is a blast," he replied. "If they are, we'll have them straightened out."

She chuckled. "I hope not. Brings joy to the home."

Finally, the Bridal March score began and everyone stood, except the King and his Queen. Diane tutted and stood up, smiling widely as she watched her future daughter-in-law being escorted down the aisle by her father.

She looked over at Bash and willed him to turn and watch his wife, but then remembered that they'd already done that. Perhaps, he was getting ready to face it all.

By the time Kenna reached the front, everyone took their seats again. Her father kissed her cheek and she handed her bouquet over to Greer. Using Bash's hand for support, she knelt onto the Prie-Dieu as Bash knelt down on his.

The Archbishop prayed over them and all Mary could think about was her and Francis's wedding. She smiled, turning to her husband who squeezed her hand in reply. As he wasn't the next in line, no one else had to kneel and pray but they watched the couple and closed their eyes when needed to.

Mary watched as the Archbishop retrieved three rings, just as he did at her wedding. The thinnest band for now which Bash slipped onto Kenna's manicured finger. She smiled to herself when she caught Kenna staring at the ring longer than needed before shaking herself out of her reverie and smiling at the Archbishop.

"You have a low attention span," Francis said under his breath, making her grin.

"I don't. I'm living in the moment," Mary replied.

"Yeah, right," Francis muttered back.

The Archbishop retrieved the registers, directed the couple to sign under their names, Sébastien Laurent Daniel & Mckenna Marie Rachel of Houses Valois-Angoulême and de Poitiers & Beaton respectively before Henry and Kenna's father signed the registers too. It made sense for the fathers of the couple to sign it as something told Mary that Catherine would have an uproar if Diane signed her name anywhere beside Henry's no matter what it was. Mary wondered how school was like for Bash. If he had to have his parents sign things off or just a royal aide to reduce the conflict between his father and stepmother.

"Crisis averted," Francis whispered, making Mary nod in agreement as both snuck glances at Catherine's steely posture. It seemed she couldn't wait to get out of here.

"Thank God this isn't being televised," Mary mumbled.

"Why's that?"

Mary smiled. "Because your mother keeps checking her watch."

Francis discreetly turned to her direction and he winced before turning back to the ceremony. "A part of me says that she didn't have to come but another part doesn't want the media to be all over this. Kenna's had enough bad press to last a lifetime."

"Mhm," Mary hummed. "The last thing she needs is to be called 'conniving' and 'difficult' for _uninviting_ the Queen of France."

"You two talk too much," Leith cut in quietly, a smirk on his face after. "Now you know how the rest of us felt as you two made googly eyes at your wedding."

Mary giggled and stopped, keeping a straight face when some people turned to the three. "Shut up, Leith."

"As you wish, Your Highness," was the blonde's cheeky reply.

"Dear, God, Leith," Francis mumbled, chuckling.

Mary sat up straighter when the vows had begun. "Both of you, hush now!" She said to the men, making them look at her in amusement.

"Sébastien, do you take Mckenna to be your wife? Do you promise to be faithful to her in good times and in bad, in sickness and in health, to love her and to honour her all the days of your life?" The Archbishop asked. As Kenna's relatives were mostly UK citizens, he had opted to speak in English for most parts, vows included.

"Doesn't sound as romantic," Mary mumbled. "I think they should have gone for French."

Francis grinned. "I agree with whatever you say."

She placed her hand on his knee and waited for Bash's response as Francis placed his own hand on top of hers.

"He's taking his time, isn't he?" Greer muttered. "I'm all for dramatic pauses-"

"But he's just standing there like a fish out of water," Lola finished.

Francis gave his brother a look and mouthed, "I _do_."

Kenna frowned a little but the smile never left her face as she mouthed nervously, "This is when you say 'I do'."

Bash turned to the Archbishop. "Je suis désolé. Can you repeat that again, s'il vous plaît?"

"Oui," the Archbishop said. "Sébastien, do you take Mckenna to be your wife? Do you promise to be faithful to her in good times and in bad, in sickness and in health, to love her and to honour her all the days of your life?"

Again, he froze and Diane shared a nervous look with Henry. They were both as confused as the other, wondering what was wrong. Perhaps they pushed the idea of marriage on their son too hard. Even Catherine was intrigued as she sat forward on her seat.

Bash turned back to Kenna and shook his head, watching her face fall. "I-I'm sorry. I-I can't. I don't."

He let go of her hands and walked down the aisle, leaving Kenna stunned in her position. Everyone gasped and looked around, even Kenna's parents turned to the King and his ex-wife in mortification. Their son had left their precious daughter at the altar in front of _everyone_.

"I really want to swear-" Greer began.

"But we're in a House of God," Mary finished, getting up with her friends to quickly lead their shocked friend out. "We've got you, Kenna."

...

"I need a moment to myself-"

"Kenna-"

"Mary, please," Kenna begged her softly, turning away from the women. "Just five minutes." She placed her hands on her hips and bowed her head with a heavy sigh.

Mary shakily nodded and led Lola and Greer outside, almost bumping into some female relatives of Kenna. "She needs a moment," she told her aunt. "If she needs us, call for us."

"I will," Duchess Joanna replied, kissing their cheeks before waiting outside the room with her other relatives.

Mary, Lola and Greer headed upstairs to the King's State Apartments where the groom had been staying in one of the seven rooms. They found the men in Francis's cabinet where Henry was pacing the room with Narcisse nervously writing down something. Mary believed it to be a speech. Anything could have happened, rodent infestation, a guest falling ill, cutting it too fine to Jesus's birthday... So many choices. Never the one about the groom jilting his bride at the altar.

"Why?" Henry asked, flabbergasted.

"I told you why," Bash began, sighing heavily. "I just don't want to get married."

Henry took a sharp intake of breath before he planted a smile on his face. "Is it the venue? I noticed that the ambience was very hot. Perhaps, you'd be suited for a colder room to prevent perspiration."

"It wasn't the venue," Bash mumbled. "I don't sweat either."

"Fine, the date then!" Henry snapped. "How about we postpone it for after Christmas?"

Bash glared at his father. "Changing the venue and the date won't do anything to change my mind. I do _not_ want to get married. Not now, not then, not _ever_."

"The only way I'd allow you to be unmarried is if you were widowed," Henry told him. "Now, I have to apologise to a life-long friend of mine whose daughter my son embarrassed in front of people representing more than three countries!"

"So your public image is more important than my feelings?" Bash asked, standing up. "It's nice to know that you're on my side only when you feel like it."

"Bash..." Francis said gently.

Bash shrugged indifferently. "Honest to God, I woke up this morning thinking that I'd have a wife by the end of the day. But standing in that chapel, listening to those vows..." He shook his head. "I realised that I always give up something for the sake of other people. Willingly or not. When is someone going to do something for _me_?"

Mary felt bad. Here she was, coming to berate him for doing that to her cousin but she found the words weren't there anymore. It was true. He had sacrificed so much and this was the one chance he had a decision for himself and not his father or some woman he barely knew.

Henry swallowed deeply. "Well, when you put it like that...," he mumbled, scratching the back of his neck. "I can't argue with that."

"What are you going to do?" Mary asked Bash.

"Apologise to Kenna properly and wish her all the best," he said. "I will get right onto an annulment."

Mary mentally cursed. They did sign the papers _before_ the vows. They'd take the blessings and reject the rest of the wedding ceremony.

"Right," she whispered. "We'll leave you, men, to speak and sort this debacle out in peace."

She left with Greer and Lola, slipping her phone out of her purse to see that she had a voicemail from Kenna.

Frowning, she answered the voicemail and listened to it.

"_Hey, Mary. Uh, I just need to get out of here for a while. I-I think I'll head back home to Scotland or somewhere new, like Sweden. It had been my plan to leave since the beginning, honestly... Now, there's nothing for me in France. You have Francis, Lola and Greer are onto pastures new... Being not only your cousin and confidante but your best friend has been a dream come true and I'm sorry to say that I'll have to resign from my position effective immediately. It's a win-win situation, you're no longer linked to a 'Scottish Slut' anymore and I get a new start. I love you, Mary Stuart, I always will. Merry Christmas and Happy New Year in advance and promise me, you'll always be happy. Even when Francis makes you mad, just hit him from me to make him see your way. Oh, and give your baby a kiss from their aunt, will you? Mar sin leat."_

Mary gasped in shock and quickly headed back downstairs where Diane was speaking to Robert and Joanna. From the looks on their faces, the voicemail was true. She turned to Lola and Greer in surprise as tears threatened to fall, but she didn't let them.

"She's gone?" Lola asked in shock.

Diane nodded sadly. "She's gone."

...

Kenna rested her forehead against the wall of the little First Class cocoon that she had on the plane. There was no need to go private when there were many spaces left on the plane to Sweden. It would be adventurous, a breath of fresh air.

She frowned when she heard tapping and turned to see a man give her a small smile, offering her his hand. Frowning, she shook it anyway.

"Antoine Bourbon," he introduced himself.

"Rachel," Kenna replied, using the name she first gave to Bash the night they met up for sex.

Antoine chuckled wryly. "Not _Kenna_, the Comtessa of whoring and drinking?"

Kenna scowled and she retrieved her hand, letting it fall onto her stomach. "What do you want?"

"Oh, you don't need to worry," he said. "I don't believe a lot of what the French media says - it's a waste of my time and good energy. Weren't you getting married today?"

Kenna frowned, even more, studying him closely. "You... You were there."

Antoine nodded, taking a sip from his drink. "Cousin to the groom," he said. "Distant, mind you. Surprisingly, I'm also related to the Queen as well."

"Well, that's royal families for you," Kenna muttered.

Antoine smiled. "I'm sorry my cousin left you in front of all those people. He never did have class."

"You say that as if you know him intimately."

"We served in the Army together. Humanitarian Aids."

Kenna nodded. "I see."

"For the longest of time, he's always wanted to be normal. He'd often try and sneak off for the more exciting stuff, but his temper didn't help things whenever he was caught. Anyway," Antoine said, finishing his drink. "One man's loss is another man's gain."

Kenna turned away from him but looked back when he pressed something against her hand. "What's this for?"

"You look like you need it more than me," he said, pouring her a glass of the wine he had with him. "Drink up."

Kenna downed the glass and gestured for him to pour her some more. "Fuck it, give me the whole damn bottle."

...

Mary chucked her phone onto the bed, pacing the room. "She still isn't answering."

"You did call her literally seconds before you tried her again. And before that," Francis replied, undoing his tie. "Come and rest-"

"It's only four o'clock," Mary said. "I need to look for Kenna and make sure she's alright."

"Kenna's a big girl-"

"Who was dumped at an altar in front of a thousand-odd people!" Mary cried out, stopping to stare at her husband incredulously. "If you ever did that to me, I'd kill you."

Francis laughed. "Spoiler alert, I'm wearing the ring and have the woman in my bed every night."

Mary blushed furiously. "Shut up."

Francis got up when a knock sounded on the door and he opened it to reveal Jones with a newspaper on a tray. He took the newspaper and read the headline, sighing heavily.

"How the fuck did they get this story already?"

Mary stood behind her husband and studied the article herself. "Claude or Lissie probably."

"So much for going with the rodent infestation," Francis muttered. "Thank you, Monsieur."

Jones left, leaving the couple with the newspaper.

Mary sighed, starting to read it. "'Scottish Slut Dumped At Altar'," she paused, rolling her eyes. "_'The King's eldest son saw sense and dumped the Scottish harlot. Many guests were not surprised at the scene which saw the bridegroom deny his vows to the Archbishop and bride in front of God and his father, King Henry VI. Princess Elisabeth of Valois said that it was quite the spectacle, watching the bride standing there in "complete and utter shock at being rejected for the first time in her life". We, for one, would have paid to see that picture of the Comtessa's dreams of destroying a great dynasty shattered.'_" Mary scoffed bitterly. "Dramatic, aren't they?"

Francis threw the newspaper into the bin. "This will all blow over and it will be a distant memory."

"We'll see," she mumbled, sitting down on the sofa and bringing her feet up. "I don't know... Her voicemail was so not her."

"She's been dumped on her wedding day, I'm sure she's not feeling herself at this moment," Francis replied.

"This is the first time we're spending a long time apart," Mary said. "You know how I am with my separation anxiety."

Francis sat down beside her and brought her feet to his lap. "You didn't have that with me."

"That's different."

"How?"

"You and I are forever, friends come and go but not _my _friends," Mary said gently. "Kenna and I have been together since I was born, we're practically sisters at this point. Lola and Greer have also been with me throughout everything too. We all got through Aylee's death together, we all mourned Greer's mother's death together, we even had a friendship prom and crowned ourselves _all_ queens."

Francis began to massage her feet. "I'm sorry my brother's stupid."

Mary laughed. "We do not hold you or the rest of your family accountable for Bash's actions. At least, Julien, Remy and Leith got their wish and drank the bar dry."

"Shame the cake's gone to waste," Francis said.

"Or has it?"

Just then, there was a knock on the door and Francis got up to answer it. A butler wheeled in the bottom tier of the wedding cake before he bowed and left the couple to it with two forks and no plates.

"Mary!"

Mary grinned. "What baby wants, baby gets."

"Or what _Mama_ wants, _Mama_ gets," Francis replied. "But I'm not complaining!"

She laughed when he got up and grabbed a fork, quickly taking a bite of the cake. She playfully rolled her eyes and dug in herself, closing her eyes to savour the taste.

"I feel kind of bad."

"Why?" Francis asked.

"We wouldn't have got this if not for the wedding being cancelled," she said.

"Aaand the moment's ruined with that sad reminder," Francis muttered lightly.

Mary sighed. "I'm sorry."

"It's fine," Francis said, chuckling softly. "Fine, if you're really worried about her, try her phone again."

Mary grinned, pressing a long kiss against his lips. "I think I'll leave it for now. Because I have an idea for the cake."

"And what may that be?" Francis asked, watching as she leant closer to undo his shirt buttons.

Mary shrugged. "You'll see."

...

Diane sat down on the bed beside Bash and handed him a glass of Scotch. "Has she answered yet?"

"No," he said, taking a sip. "She's disappeared off into thin air and neither of the girls will tell me where."

"No one knows," Diane replied. "She asked for some privacy for herself and by the time we had the door opened, she was gone. Her wedding rings, her dress and shoes were all that were left behind. She sent Mary a voicemail, she quit Versailles. And France overall."

Diane slipped her mother's ring off her right ring finger and showed it to Bash with a sad shrug before putting it back on and wrapping an arm around his shoulders, pressing her cheek on his forearm.

Bash sighed, bowing his head and resting his elbows on his thighs. "I... just couldn't go through with it."

"Do you love her?" His mother asked.

"I told her that I will come to love her one day, but if I'm honest, I can't see beyond a month with her, let alone anyone," Bash replied. "I put it down to cold feet but no, this was a whole case of hypothermia."

Diane smiled wryly. "Not all marriages start off with romance and the works," she said. "But I genuinely thought you'd found the one at least."

"Did you know she slept with Father?"

Diane raised her eyebrows. "Haven't we all?" She replied lightly. "Granted, she is not like most girls but I saw myself in her. Young, spirited but with a sad background."

"You knew about her situation?"

Diane nodded. "I spoke to her about it. I told her to tell you. Insecurity is so overwhelming but it is a thing and it happens to the strongest of us. We're not all Barbie dolls meant to parade about in plastic smiles and fake ingenuity. Such is life."

She got up and pressed a kiss on the top of his head. He closed his eyes and gripped onto her arm gently, biting his lip to stop the tears. She hugged him and stayed like that for ten minutes before letting go and wiping his cheeks for him.

"It's my fault that you believe love doesn't exist in your world," she whispered. "Your father and I should never influence your future. Should never stop you from falling for someone, because it isn't all the time your heart gets broken and you fear to put yourself through that again. Love is a learning experience. So learn from it."

With that, she left him with that food for thought and Bash laid back on the bed, bringing his phone up to his eyesight.

On his phone's wallpaper, there was Kenna and their dog, Olenna. The poor thing was given treats before Kenna left with some of her things, leaving a message to Miranda that she'll have people pack up her clothes, shoes and anything else she owned from all of their residences.

He sent her a simple text.

{**To Kenna:** Keep love in your heart. A life without it is like a sunless garden when the flowers are dead - Oscar Wilde. Bonne chance, Mckenna.}

He gasped when he received a reply back, sitting up to read it more clearly.

{**From Kenna:** Always forgive your enemies; nothing annoys them so much - Oscar Wilde. Bonne chance, Sebastian.}

Bash smiled sadly. He let out a little laugh, raising his eyebrows.

{**To Kenna:** I'm your enemy now? I'm truly sorry. But as our favourite poet, Oscar Wilde, said: To love oneself is the beginning of a lifelong romance. I hope you do accept yourself one day.}

{**From Kenna:** The heart was made to be broken. The truth is rarely pure and never simple - Oscar Wilde. Adieu, Sebastian.}

Bash knew that she wouldn't reply anymore. He had his assurance that she would be okay down the line. So he left it with one last text.

{**To Kenna:** The very essence of romance is uncertainty. Behind every exquisite thing that existed, there was something tragic - Oscar Wilde. Au revoir, Mckenna.}

...

Kenna stared at the last text he sent over and over again. Her fingers found the wine glass she was sipping from and she lifted it, taking a long gulp of the red wine inside.

She didn't know what the first part meant. If they'd find their way back to each other again or if they'd find other people and see each other down the line as good friends.

The last bit sent a chill down her spine. She placed her glass down, noticing that she was shaking and she sighed, rubbing her tired face.

_Behind every exquisite thing that existed, there was something tragic _\- Oscar Wilde.

Bash had called her exquisite once.

Deep down, she was ugly.

She stood up and went to the bathroom. She was staying at a five-star hotel somewhere in the middle of Sweden. No questions asked, no one bothering her or noticing her for being the jilted bride of France.

She sniffled, wiping her nose as she stared at the messages she wrote for herself on the glass. 'Slut'. 'Whore'. 'Ugly'. They went on, red bold and staring at her in the face.

Crossing her arms, she bit her lip and took a shaky breath before grabbing a face towel and beginning to wipe the words off. Damn Bash for influencing her life, even a whole damn country away.

By the time she was done, the mirror was clean and the wounds had started to heal.

But not her heart.

Because he had it.

And she never wanted it back.


	13. A Wilde Auld Lang Syne

**In my downtime, have been studying poems again. I haven't done this in about four years so it's amazing, finding little pieces of myself back. Studying this particular branch of science university gets tiring and difficult, but English helps greatly. This helps too and so do all of you.**

**Also, since exams are over and I've kept this and ATEOTB from you, here's a long chapter which was originally two separate ones. As for ATEOTB, I'm still working around the chapter I have as it's got more Frary tension. Don't hate me, haha!**

**And finally, just want to say, Mizzswan, praying for your mum. The Reign fandom are all supportive and wonderful and we have your back always!**

**Quote of the chapter: "To live is the rarest thing in the world. Most people exist, that is all." ****– Oscar Wilde.**

* * *

Mary woke up, belly full of chocolate cake and unborn child and handsome husband fast asleep beside her. She smiled, snuggling into his side and sighing wistfully when he wrapped an arm around her automatically.

"Merry Christmas, beautiful wife of mine," Francis mumbled, pressing a chaste kiss onto her forehead.

Mary smiled even more. "Merry Christmas, handsome husband of mine," she replied. "Think about it, next Christmas we'll be celebrating our baby's first one."

Francis grinned. "What a beautiful thought," he replied. "Breakfast will be in about..." He checked the clock. "Two hours. What do you want to do until then?"

Mary laughed, kissing his bare chest. "What do you think?"

"Ooh, someone didn't think last afternoon, evening or night was enough," Francis replied. "I think I like you being pregnant."

"Because you can get sex whenever you want now because people will understand that the pregnant woman's sex drive is up and running permanently?" Mary asked, giggling.

"Well, the looks the staff give us are boosting my ego," Francis muttered lightly, kissing her shoulder. "Glad to be of service."

"Ready to be of use again?"

Francis flipped her onto her back, pressing his lips against hers before saying, "All the time."

...

Marie raised her eyebrows as she watched Mary enter the dining hall, fixing her hair. It was a private Christmas breakfast with her, Mary, Lola and Greer, the table quieter now with Kenna gone.

"Have you heard from Kenna?" She asked her daughter. "Because your mood is in high spirits."

Mary blushed furiously. "No, I haven't," she admitted. "Uh, just woke up on the right side of the bed."

"We all know what that means," Greer said, smirking. "You prefer the left _always_."

Lola snorted. "Husband did you well then?"

"Ladies!" Mary cried out, sitting down. "Combined, you're worse than Kenna. Not that she's answering my calls..."

Greer's face fell. "She isn't answering our calls either. I spoke to her parents before they left for Scotland, they said that she was fine - she sent them a text."

Mary rubbed her face. "As if she couldn't be more embarrassed," she mumbled. "And that article made things worse."

"Princess Elisabeth," Marie began. "Is an attention-seeking petulant child. She is her mother's daughter."

"Aunt Marie!" Lola cried out.

"The King is my dear friend, he doesn't mind if I insult his meaningless spares."

"Mother," Mary said warningly. "Anyway, let's all just move on. Kenna will contact us when she's ready and we'll be there for her when she comes back."

"_If_ she comes back," Greer said. "But you're right."

Mary nodded and grabbed some smoked salmon but her hand was hit by her mother. "Mum!"

"No seafood until _after_ you give birth," Marie said. "We don't want to put anything to chance."

"The in-chateau doctor said smoked fish was fine," Mary replied.

Marie scoffed. "Darling, for me? Please?"

Mary rolled her eyes but nodded with a smile. "Fine. I'll stick to the avocado and toast."

"We are going to spend Christmas lunch with my family," Marie began. "You can invite the Dauphin too if you want, I guess."

Mary giggled. "He's my husband and I'm sure they would be happy to see him," she told her mother. "Apparently, the Christmas dinner is reserved for family only so..."

"Lola and I will be flying out to Scotland," Greer said, squeezing Mary's hand. "We'd be there in time for family dinners!"

Lola nodded. "We will be back by New Year's Day."

Mary smiled. "I'll miss you guys."

"Oh, don't. You get us for pretty much 99% of the year!" Greer said teasingly. "Right, we better finish breakfast and get packing. Oh and try and help the staff with Kenna's things. She bought _a lot_."

"Well, she did always have a taste for fashion," Mary replied, biting into her toast with a satisfying crunch. "You know what would make this better?"

"What?" Her mother asked.

Mary grinned. "If there were peanut butter and strawberry jam with it."

Her friends gagged.

"Disgusting, Mary!" Greer cried out, sipping her tea.

"I think this baby is doing her more damage than good!" Lola cried out lightly before grabbing the jam jar. "Better hide this before she executes her plan!"

...

Francis watched as Bash checked his phone now and then. Breakfast was awkward, silent except for the clattering of cutlery on the plates and sipping of drinks. Francis swore he could even hear the clock tick beneath all of that.

"Dinner will start at five promptly," Narcisse explained to the family, scrolling through his iPad. "The King's Speech will be at half six. The children will be able to watch their annual Christmas show during that. The Queen will have her prayer service commence at seven until half-past. Mass will begin at eight and end by ten promptly. Then it is back to Fontainebleau where Versailles will be closed for cleaning."

"Thank you, Stephane," Henry's quiet voice came as he waved off his courtier with a heavy sigh and a hand to his forehead.

Everyone was in low moods, Christmas not really feeling like it. Not after yesterday, not after the embarrassment of Elisabeth spilling everything to the press about the wedding. Even a rodent infestation would have been better, at least it would keep the public from wanting to tour the place for a good few weeks to leave Francis and Mary in peace.

Narcisse bowed, walked past Francis and slipped him a note. Francis gave the man a smile as he left and opened up the note to see Mary's handwriting, explaining that he was invited to the de Guises' estate for lunch.

"Lunch, Dad? What are we doing for lunch?" Francis asked. "I noted that Narcisse didn't say anything."

Henry looked up at him. "I have lunch with the Prime Minister and government officials and their families with Catherine," he said. "It is not compulsory for you to be there."

Francis nodded with a smile. "Mary invited me to her family's estate. May I go?"

"If you'd take Louis and the twins, then yes."

Francis's eye twitched. He hoped it wasn't the older girls. "_Which_ twins?"

Henry frowned before realising. "The younger ones. No, the older girls must stay and look for suitable partners at the lunch gathering."

"Really, Dad?" Lissie asked whiningly.

"I really do not want to hear your voice, Elisabeth," Henry snapped.

Lissie sighed. "Yes, Father."

"You better hope that the Duke of Valencia will take a liking to you. His parents are already smitten," Catherine said, making her husband nod.

"I'll wear my best dress," Lissie mumbled, picking her food apart with her fork.

Francis wanted to feel sorry for her, but she put herself into this mess, using her petty arguments to dampen their image. He looked over at Bash who didn't seem fazed about the whole thing.

Bash merely stared at his phone and sighed, taking the plunge and typing out a text.

{**To Kenna:** We're still married. "A flower knows when its butterfly will return, and if the moon walks out, the sky will understand; but now it hurts, to watch you leave so soon when I don't know if you will ever come back." - Sanober Khan.}

His phone buzzed with a simple text.

{**From Kenna:** Never consummated it.}

{**To Kenna:** Sure about that? "A man always finds it hard to realize that he may have finally lost a woman's love, however badly he may have treated her." - Sir Arthur Conan Doyle.}

She wasn't doing this, not today, he realised.

{**From Kenna:** Yes. We never had sex as man and wife. Never even went through the whole damn vow part. Remember?}

He winced and it was noticed by a few people around the table, including his father.

{**To Kenna: **I know. Joyeux Noël.}

{**From Kenna:** Merry Christmas to you too.}

{**To Kenna:** Spending it with family?}

{**From Kenna:** Alone.}

He frowned, he'd hoped that she would be at home in Scotland, surrounded by her friends and family to comfort her but she wasn't and he felt guilty about that. They could have been spending Christmas together after their first night as man and wife, with glasses of champagne and morning kisses.

{**To Kenna:** Why?}

{**From Kenna:** Why do you care?}

{**To Kenna:** Where are you?}

He was going to get her, to explain and try and help her move on. To show her that he wasn't doing this to hurt her, but to keep himself protected. He wasn't ready yet or he wasn't sure if he would ever be but that didn't mean he didn't care about the woman he ditched at the altar.

{**From Kenna:** Somewhere.}

{**To Kenna:** Are you safe?}

{**From Kenna:** I am.}

He tried her mobile, excusing himself from the breakfast table and leaving. The phone kept ringing out and he figured that she was staring at it or ignoring it because he knew her. He knew she was right by the bloody thing, letting him try her over and over again.

{**To Kenna:** Why don't you answer your phone?}

She replied with an honest: {**From Kenna:** Because I will scream and I don't want to disturb the lovely people around me.}

He felt like shit.

{**To Kenna:** Why would you scream?}

He knew the answer. She looked like she was going to when he kept stalling.

{**From Kenna:** Do you really have to ask?}

Bitterness laced with her words and he hoped that she wasn't about to do something stupid.

{**To Kenna:** Do you forgive me?}

{**From Kenna:** We'll see.}

{**To Kenna:** What does that mean?}

He cursed when she stopped replying. Just as he was about to call Miranda or Max to find her, he received another text.

{**From Kenna:** "If you truly want to be respected by people you love, you must prove to them that you can survive without them." - Michael Bassey Johnson.}

Bash smiled sadly. She did it. He sighed in relief and realised that she was going to be okay. That she didn't need him protecting her, not whilst she gave him her heart and he took it with nothing to give back.

He put his phone away and turned around, heading back into the dining hall for another thirty minutes or so of complete silence from everyone.

...

Mary winced and in a flash, her mother, Greer and Lola surrounded her, asking her what was wrong. She let out a laugh and shooed them off, readjusting herself on her seat.

"I slept awkwardly," she said. "Well, because, Francis and I..."

"Oh," Lola said, blushing as Mary did the same.

"What did you and Francis do?" Her mother asked coyly.

Greer gasped. "Aunt Marie!"

"We're all adults here," Marie said with a chuckle. "I was young once, you know?"

Mary faltered. "But you haven't had sex in almost twenty-one years, surely you can't know _some_ sex positions?"

Marie gave her daughter an incredulous look. "I'll have you know that I've been satisfied by a few men over the years. I wasn't going to be celibate for the rest of my life because my husband died!"

"Oh," Mary mumbled. "I'm sorry."

"It's fine," Marie replied, smiling anyway. "Although I do believe you young people are so agile and flexible these days, you could have endless choices."

Mary nodded. "Francis wanted to try one in particular. In preparation for me getting bigger with our little bundle of joy, but I really hated it and I don't think we'll be trying that one again, pregnant or not."

"Well, as I always say, missionary is the way to go," her mother replied.

"Boring," Greer muttered.

"Well, what's boring about a romantic act of love?" Marie asked the women. "You both can see each other and all your problems melt away at that moment when you and your husband are joined as one. The way God intended."

Lola giggled, feeling uncomfortable about the conversation. "So Biblical."

"We are Catholics, Lola dear," Marie replied. "Right, hurry along, Mary. It's a long drive to the estate, and I believe you and your husband will more than certainly take your time to get dressed this morning."

Mary grinned, getting up from her seat with some pastries on her plate. "Barely had enough to eat and you're rushing me out."

"Well, it's not my fault your husband couldn't keep his hands off you," Marie said. "You're turning up late to all your meals."

"Well, it's the festive season," Mary told them with a wink before she left.

But she knew it became a thing the minute she married Francis and she didn't regret it one bit.

...

"Woah!" Henrietta breathed out, eyes wide as she stared at the large house coming into frame.

Louis and Emone joined at the window, making Mary and Francis chuckle. Even Marie raised her eyebrows in amusement as the car finally came to a stop in front of the front doors. Francis got out first, helping Marie and then Mary before the children scrambled out themselves, excitedly going to the fountains, hedge pieces and other works of art around the front driveway.

"Valois children, welcome to the Guise Estate," Marie announced, flipping her faux fur scarf over her shoulder before fixing her clutch and heading to the doors that were opened by the doormen.

"It's beautiful," Emone shyly told Mary before taking her hand.

Mary grinned, taking Louis's hand as well as Francis directed Henrietta in. It was quite the sight, the children in awe of the mansion. One day, she and Francis would be coming here for short trips with their _own_ children.

"Christian," Marie greeted her brother, kissing each other's cheeks. "You remember Francis and his youngest siblings, Louis, Henrietta and Emone."

Christian nodded, smiling at the princes and princesses. "When we heard there were three children coming, I had people retrieve presents for our guests. It's been a long while since we hosted princes and princesses."

Mary let go of the children's hands, coming forward to hug her uncle tightly. "And what about me, Uncle Christian?"

"Who can forget my favourite niece?" He asked, pressing a kiss onto her forehead. "How is the baby?"

"Baby is doing fine," Francis said, coming forward to shake the man's hand.

Christian beamed. "Well, the staff will take your coats and show you to the dining room. I have a few matters to attend to but my siblings are around with their families."

After getting settled into a conversation with her mother's sisters - they hadn't seen each other since Mary was born apparently - Mary couldn't help but stare at her husband interacting with his siblings and the other children around.

Lunch hadn't begun yet, her stomach growling much to the females around her's amusement, but Mary didn't mind. She wanted to watch Francis play with the children and be very _unprincely_ for once. He was taught to not swear, to keep his back straight, to follow his father's lead and example. He was taught not to smile too much or wave too much, to be polite and guarded, to keep a distance between him and the public, even if there was an excited child who wanted to get their wish and shake the hand of a royal person.

Now, he was all over the ground as the children piled on top of him, the 'big scary monster'.

"You chose a good one," her Aunt Louise told her.

Mary grinned. "I did, didn't I? Even if it was my father's decision."

Aunt Renée cackled, sipping her wine. "It was the King's decision if your mother remembers correctly."

Marie looked up. "Well, James didn't complain," she said quietly. "It worked out, that counts."

"It does," Christian said, entering the room. "Ladies, gentlemen, children..." He eyed the giggling children. "Lunch is ready."

Francis turned to Mary as they ate. "I never knew your mother had so many siblings."

"Jealous she has more than you?" Mary teased him. "There's twelve of them. Well _was_. One died in infanthood but they still light a candle for him. Uncle Christian is the eldest son and my mother is the eldest overall. There are two Francises."

"Francis is a popular name in France," Francis said with a grin. "And it's coming back into fashion so... just throwing ideas out there."

"Shut up," Mary said lightly as she grinned back.

"Who are the ones called Francis?"

"Uncle Christian but he goes by his middle name 'Christian' because he was your father's right-hand man for a while. It would have been confusing to refer to you or my uncle," she explained. "And the youngest son, he's not here. So there's Francis Christian and Francis Guillaume. The different version of William."

Francis nodded slowly, taking it in. "William is a nice name for a baby."

"Are we seriously considering this within earshot of my family?"

He nodded, winking at her. "We'd like their options."

"If they had it their way, we'd never break the cycle!" Mary laughed. "Maries, Francises, Henrys, Jameses! It would never stop and we wouldn't be _original_."

"Why knock something that works?" Francis replied coyly.

Mary snorted. "We'll think about it."

"When are you due, niece?" Mary's Uncle Philip asked.

Mary blushed. "Summer."

"Oh, my sweet summer child," Philip began much to his siblings' annoyances.

Francis laughed, turning to Mary. "What's going on?"

"Did I not say? Uncle Phil's a Game of Thrones superfan," Mary muttered.

"What do you know of fear?" Philip continued.

"Dear Lord," Christian muttered. "Cut it off, Phil!"

Philip scowled. "Well, you are not the author of this family. It is good that authors support each other-"

"You're not an author," Marie cut him off. "You're a _poet_."

Philip faltered. "I am working on my manuscript, I'll have you know. And it is dedicated to our little princess, Marie."

Mary awed. "Thanks, Uncle Phil."

"I'll make sure it has a lot of blood and gore just for you. I remember your taste for psychotic thrillers," Philip promised her before continuing to eat, making his wife incredulous.

"I won't expect anything less from you, Uncle Phil," Mary replied, chuckling before lowering her voice for Francis. "Did I tell you that my mother's family are all eccentrics?"

Francis chuckled. "Now, I know why you're more Scottish than French."

...

"How was lunch?" Henry asked as he, Bash and Francis got ready for dinner at the in-chateau boutique. Red suit jackets, black dress pants, the works.

Francis turned to his father, making the seamstress tut. "Sorry," he mumbled, fixing his gaze forward again. "It was great, Dad. Mary's family were really welcoming."

"That's good," Henry replied. "Was Christian there?"

"Yes," Francis said. "And most of the Duchess's siblings."

"The children enjoyed themselves."

Francis smiled. "There were other children there. Uncle Christian made sure to gift them presents."

"They will go to charity. Your siblings are too spoilt already," Henry replied with a sigh.

"Of course," Francis mumbled. "I was wondering if I could sit in your King's Speech?"

Henry raised his eyebrows. "You have always tried to run whenever I asked."

"This year's different, Dad," Francis told him. "I'm a husband and by the new year, I will be a father. I need to take my responsibilities seriously."

"Shame your older brother doesn't think he needs to as well," Henry muttered.

Bash gave him the side-eye. "Well, if you hadn't kept me a secret for over two decades and forced me to marry before I wanted to, we wouldn't be here."

"You came to me proposing marriage, not the other way around," Henry replied easily, stepping down from the pedestal to check his outfit out. "Good job, ladies. Take the rest of the week off."

"Yes, Your Majesty," the women said before finishing up with Francis and Bash before leaving.

Henry turned back to Bash, arms crossed. "Marquise Olivia."

"What about her?" Bash asked, sharing a wary glance with his brother.

"Why not marry her?"

"Because she used me and dated Francis for a year or so?"

Henry sighed. "The Comtessa de Verona, Delphine Martineau. She was your playmate as children."

"She's five years older than me," Bash began. "And we didn't part on good terms."

"Well, fix those terms and court her. Immediately," Henry replied, starting to head towards the door. "You never were smart when it came to sex."

"What about Lady Penelope?" Bash proposed.

Henry froze. "I'm sorry?"

"Lady Penelope is around _a lot_. Her parents intend for her to get married soon, and we know each other," Bash said. "Very well, actually."

"Lady Penelope's off-limits," Henry snapped.

"Why?" Francis asked, frowning. "She's always flirted a little with Bash. What if they-"

"Lady Penelope is not available," Henry cut his son off. "Stay away from her-"

"Well, you've just confirmed my suspicions," Bash said. "I hope she's worth your marriage and crown. Sleeping with her may just lead to more than that article about you and Kenna getting out. All the women you've ever set eyes upon will ignore their worthless NDAs and destroy you. There won't be any fixing for that."

He left the room and Henry sighed, turning to Francis.

"Not a word."

"Yes, Father," Francis mumbled. "But you do know what this could do?"

Henry glared at him. "Who's the parent here?"

"You," Francis stated. "Not that you act like it most of the time."

He walked out the room, sighing heavily as he caught up to Bash.

"I'm going to Sweden," Bash announced as they headed downstairs.

Francis frowned, turning to him. "Why?"

"I made a mistake. Maybe this wasn't the life I wanted after all. I mean, I went twenty-three years in peace and no drama whatsoever but now... I just need some time to myself, to rethink about things," Bash replied. "To... decide things for my self."

"I see. Will you be leaving soon?"

"Yes."

"Do what you have to do then," Francis told him. "I will support you."

Bash gave his brother a smile. "Thank you."

"What about dinner?"

"I will leave after Mass," Bash replied. "I'm happy for you, by the way."

Francis blushed. "How?"

"You're mature. There's a sense of authority and sensibility around you," Bash explained. "I'm proud of you."

Francis grinned, nudging his brother's shoulder. "It means a lot, hearing you say that. God forbid Dad ever mutters those words."

"He's hot and cold. When he's happy with us, he's really a good father but sometimes, he lets the stress of being a king overshadow the joy his children bring."

"I don't want to be like that," Francis said nervously. "Favour my duty to France over my child."

Bash shrugged. "A king or queen has their burdens. The beacons of their kingdoms, but no one knows what they sacrifice to make the big decisions."

"But I'll have everyone supporting me, including you."

"I will always support you, Francis," Bash told him. "You're my little brother."

"Thanks, big brother," Francis mumbled with a smile. "You know what? Maybe Mary and I should have another kid straight away. They'd be the best of friends... Just like us."

...

"No," Mary said after dinner as they walked to Henry's cabinet for the King's Speech. They were just observing but Francis would be learning. "We are _not_ having another child straight after this one."

"Oh, come on, love!" Francis said. "It makes things easier and having them back to back means that we'll be able to rest instead of doing it all over again down the line."

Mary shook her head. "And what about my body? What about the whole mess of hormones that I'll have to suffer for supposedly two years? This baby is enough as it is and they're not even born yet!"

"Can we please discuss this fully later on, at least?"

Mary rolled her eyes. "Fine," she said just as they reached the cabinet. "I'll think about it. Now, is this live?"

"It always is," Francis affirmed. "We can't talk nor distract him. He normally only has Narcisse operating the prompter in front of him that has his speech written on it and his publicist, the cameraman and his assistant."

"Alright," Mary said, eyeing the door. "Perhaps I should wait."

Francis smiled. "Nervous?"

"No more than you are," she mumbled. "I used to watch these religiously because of my mother."

"It does get tedious but Father manages to bear with it," Francis told her. "Maybe you should go and rest before Mass instead?"

Mary nodded, planting a kiss on his lips. "See you soon?"

"Definitely," Francis said.

He watched as Mary disappeared around the corner, Michel following after her. He entered his father's cabinet and found him slow sipping on some Whiskey as Narcisse and the cameramen spoke.

"Cinq minutes, Your Majesty," Narcisse said.

Henry nodded and turned to Francis. "Behind the camera."

Francis sat down beside the publicist and she sent him a warm smile before focusing on her work. Narcisse took his other side and held up the prompter on the tablet as the cameraman began filming but didn't put it live.

"I need to fix the lighting in this room..." The cameraman muttered, his assistant getting right onto that. "Trois minutes."

When it was finally time, Henry turned to the camera and smiled brightly, a completely new facade taking over his face. Francis studied him, leaning back in his seat with his forefinger and thumb to his chin.

"Joyeux Noël!" Henry began, continuing his speech in French. "This year has been a really fulfilling year for us all, politically wise, economically wise and socially wise. This year, the family welcomed Duchess Marie back to the family along with her daughter, the Dauphine of France, Marie Josephine who married my son, the Dauphin of France, François..."

...

Mary sighed wistfully, pulling the duvet up to her waist. "I'm so glad today's over. The last thing I needed was churchgoers from Mass congratulating us on our incoming arrival _every two minutes_."

"Got to love the public," Francis said, slipping his shirt on and getting into bed. "How are you feeling?"

Mary shrugged, laying down. "Tired. Today was too long."

"Get used to it, we do this every Christmas," Francis replied. "At least we have lunch for a break."

Mary tutted, bringing a hand to her head. "Some Christmases, we can spend in Scotland. Just us and the baby or _kids_ down the line."

"Have you... thought any more about having another child so quickly?"

Mary sat up. "We've barely had time as us as it is," she said. "Once this baby's out, we'd be all over it and barely have time to be Mary and Francis."

Francis sighed, nodding. "That's true. I'm sorry I was too hasty in getting pregnant."

Mary smiled softly. "It's fine. It's not like I didn't want it-"

"You didn't want kids yet."

"No," she said honestly. "But after finding out I was pregnant and the shock was gone, I knew this was my calling." She placed her hands onto her small bump. "I want to be the mother this child deserves. I want to be involved, understanding, supportive and respectful. My mother did tough-loving with me, but she still had those days when she let her hair down and took me travelling during Summers and it was great, just her and me. That was because my dad wasn't around and she had to do both jobs. I still have some bitter feelings, but I shouldn't because she tried her best. Without her, I wouldn't be here. She could have rejected us marrying each other and I'd be stuck in Scotland for life with a guy I'd probably love less than I love you."

Francis kissed her gently. "We'll leave it up to God to decide then," he whispered. "I promise you that even though we'll be parents, we will still have 'you and me' time."

Mary smiled happily. "Promise?"

"Pinky promise," he said, holding out his pinky finger.

Mary laughed, joining hers with his. "You're such a kid."

"Hey, maybe that's why children love me!"

Mary nodded proudly. "My cousins couldn't get enough of you. Shame we have to be too formal for that."

"We have school visits around Paris mid-January," Francis began. "Perhaps they'll be more lenient and we can play around with the kids. Practice does help us for when we have our own baby."

Mary nodded with a grin, kissing him. "That will be great."

"Good," he said, settling down and turning off his lamp.

She joined him, turning hers off and felt Francis wrap his arms around her body, his hands resting on her bump. He pressed a kiss onto the back of her neck and it made her shiver when he ghosted another one across it, making the hairs on her skin stand.

She took a shaky breath and took one of his hands, leading it down.

"Screw that," he mumbled, pulling her onto her back so he could get on top of her and pull her shirt off. "I love you so much, Mary."

She cupped his cheeks, seeing his blue eyes darken. "I love you so much too," she replied, bringing his head down for a kiss.

...

Mary stood with her mother, watching everyone enjoy the New Year's Eve/Day party. It was past eleven at night, the children still up to celebrate the new year with their older siblings and parents.

"Where's Francis?" Marie asked her daughter, not finding the blonde anywhere. "I thought he'd be all over you."

Mary waved it off. "Calling Bash. Something about security issues that they don't want Henry to know about."

"I see," Marie mumbled. "Have you spoken to Kenna? To wish her a Happy New Year?"

Mary sighed. "I texted her earlier, no reply. I don't know, she wished me that in the voicemail."

"I'm sure she's fine. When she is ready, she will return," Marie replied. "Oh, there's your uncle. He's going to Henry, I'll join them."

Mary nodded and watched as her mother took her time to get to the men. She had her good days and her bad days and she wished her mother didn't indulge in the alcohol, but it was a celebration. A few glasses didn't hurt and her mother never drank for the other days.

Mary felt alone now, Lola and Greer not gracing them with their appearances until tomorrow. Just as she was about to move from her spot to search for a soft drink, Leith and the Vargas flanked her and she laughed, shaking her head in disbelief.

"There are so many guards here, I don't need you," she told them.

"Whatever you need, tell us," Remy told her.

"We saw Francis leave to answer a call," Julien began. "And we were about to come but our fathers cornered us."

Leith gestured to where a plump man was, speaking to a beautiful blonde older woman. "My parents, everyone. Wanting me to get married since I could speak."

"What do your parents do?" Mary asked curiously. "None of you ever talk about them."

Leith rolled his eyes. "My parents made their money in stocks," he said. "They invested in bakeries all over France - we own thirty now. We also do property development and now the King and my father are in talks of constructing the 'King's Royal Sports Centre' in Calais."

"New money," Mary said, nodding slowly.

"Exactly," Leith replied. "But I make my own money _occasionally_. The Army was mandatory so I did that. Didn't care about getting paid, I did it because it was for France."

Mary smiled. "That's good."

"Yeah," he said. "Bet you didn't know that I could bake and cook."

"What?"

Remy laughed. "Our boy ran his own bakery by age 15," he said, patting Leith's back. "We called him 'Kitchen Boy'."

Mary grinned. "I'm sure Greer would _love_ that. A man who can cook and bake?"

"Do put in a good word in for me," Leith replied cheekily.

Mary snorted, turning to the twins. "And you?"

"Our father is Marquise Kasper Varga," Julien told her.

"The former Mayor of Paris?"

Remy nodded her way. "We are not close with our father but everyone here fakes their familial relationships..."

"He was never present," Julien explained more. "But we come to events he's at and smile at the people he speaks with and give him the satisfaction of having two successful children. Our sister eloped just to spite him and now, she's a forbidden subject."

"And your mother?" Mary asked cautiously.

Remy scoffed. "The lamb that follows the sheepdog. Elise Varga. She's, uh, an alcoolique."

"I'm so sorry," Mary mumbled, looking over at the men's mother who downed a glass when she thought no one was looking.

"Perhaps I should stop her from seeking another glass," Julien mumbled, going over to lead the woman out.

Mary sighed. "The secrets of the French elite, am I right?" She muttered.

"The things the public do not see or realise," Leith stated. "My parents are lovely, don't get me wrong but my mother used to be..."

"Be what?"

Leith blushed. "A woman of the night."

Mary's eyes widened. "Oh, dear God."

"She did what she had to do to get through university. My father met her one night and was disgusted so helped her by giving her a job at one of his relatives' recruitment companies. She was so grateful, she initiated a relationship," Leith told her. "That fat man wasn't always fat, you know? My mother got him into her bakery plans and together they built an empire."

Mary smiled widely. "That's sweet. Shame it meant losing his waistline."

"Would you believe me if I told you that my father used to have _my_ body?"

"No," Mary replied honestly with a laugh.

"Exactly," Leith said, sighing when his parents waved him over excitedly. "Excuse me."

"Then there was two," Remy said teasingly.

Mary grinned. "Indeed. I'm going to grab a drink. Want one?"

"Whatever you're having."

"It won't be alcoholic."

Remy shrugged. "I'm done with alcohol for now," he said. "New Year's Resolution."

Mary chuckled, shaking her head. "Fair enough. I'll be right back!"

She headed over to the drinks table and scanned her options, finally settling on some tropical juice in a champagne flute. Even the waiters nearby helped her, just in case she chose an alcoholic blend.

"You're so kind, thank you," she told the man and woman, making them blush. "I'm going to need two of these..."

She collected two glasses and just as she was about to head to Remy, she bumped into someone. He quickly held her down in balance and made sure that no liquid got onto them both.

"Uh, thanks," she said, chuckling slightly. "Thank you."

"No problem, Marquise," he replied, reaching behind her to grab a drink for himself before offering her his right hand. "Comte de Condé, Louis Bourbon."

Mary smiled, showing him her filled hands before he realised and retracted his hand. "Bourbon... You're Francis's cousin."

"Distant," Louis said. "Got to keep up appearances."

She chuckled slightly. "Sorry, was miles away - thinking about all the non-alcoholic drinks I could drink."

"Well, congratulations," he said. "If there's anyone who will be a good father, it is Francis. He's a good man."

"Glad you think so," Mary replied with a grin. "He's the best person in the world. Well, according to me. Anyway, I better go, I have a friend who is drinkless."

Louis nodded. "It was a pleasure meeting you."

"Likewise," Mary said before heading back to Remy.

But she was intersected by Francis who placed a sweet kiss onto her cheek before helping her take one glass from her hand.

"What was that for?" She asked, blushing when people gave them coy smirks.

Francis kept the smile on his face as he said, "Stay away from Louis. He and his brother, Antoine, are trouble."

Mary nodded in understanding. "That's why he said 'distant'," she said.

"Mhm," he hummed as they reached Remy.

"Why was she speaking to Louis?" Remy asked Francis.

Mary frowned. "You know him as well?"

Remy scoffed, taking his drink from Francis. "Know him? Knocked two of my teeth out when we were fifteen."

"His brother is a psychopath," Francis mumbled, turning slightly so no one could lip-read as he spoke to them.

"Yeah," Remy said. "Stalked women, got caught up in numerous rape cases, abused his wife and almost killed her by various different ways - car accidents, pushing her down the stairs, beating her with a bat..."

Mary's eyes widened. "Excuse me?"

"Duchess de Navarre, Jeanne d'Albret," Francis said. "She was one of the most beautiful women in the social circle until Antoine broke her cheekbone and nose causing her to have four facial reconstructions. She had _a lot_ of plastic surgery after. The divorce was messy, she got custody of their six-year-old son Harold, and no one has heard from her since."

"That's terrible," Mary muttered. "And what about Louis?"

Remy sighed. "Back in school, everyone talked about him being Antoine's brother and he didn't take too well to being compared to that monster. So, he lashed out. We used to try and support him because nobody's family is ever perfect and without flaws, but he more or less spat in our face. That and he was a year above Jules and me so by the time the French Military came calling, he asked his parents to pay the government off so he didn't go. Instead, he dropped out of school and resorted to his brother's ways of sleeping around. At least he respects women, sort of. It's guys he has a problem with because he thinks we'll all judge him for his brother's actions."

"I will no longer extend pleasantries with the Bourbons," Mary said. "Thank you for bringing my attention to that. Perhaps we should extend a helping hand to Jeanne?"

"She lives in Spain and my mother is in contact with her frequently," Francis said. "I'm sure she's fine but we should be respectful of her boundaries."

Mary nodded. "Of course."

Every family had secrets and Francis's distant cousin was not shy of them. She looked up from her drink and saw Louis smile at her. She gave him a terse smile before turning away and kissing Francis who kept his hand protectively on the lower of her back.

"Adorable," Remy stated, smiling as he sipped his drink. "Boy, I can't wait for the New Year to come already. All this schmoozing is tiring me out."

"Says you," Francis replied. "You don't have it as bad as me."

Mary laughed, turning to Francis. "What did Bash want?"

"I helped him send a security team to where he is," Francis explained. "He wouldn't tell me why but he said it was urgent."

"Where is he?"

"Sweden," Francis said.

Mary raised her eyebrows. "Kenna's in Sweden."

"Is she now?" Remy asked, smirking. "Oh, looks like our boy went to find the woman he jilted at the altar."

"I doubt it," Francis said. "He said he needed to think about himself. What being a prince means to him, what being a part of all of this," he gestured around. "Means to him."

Mary pursed her lips. "Well, he better stay away from Kenna. I don't want her hopes to be shattered. She's already radio silence as it is and it's never happened before."

Francis gave her a reassuring smile. "I'm sure she'll be fine and Bash knows his boundaries. I think returning to the girl you dumped in front of a _lot_ of people will be an arsehole thing to do. Anyway, he's fine and I've sent over the security measures he wanted - all is well and we should be thinking about the new year."

"Oh, the new year," Remy said, laughing slightly. "I aim to put a ring on a woman's finger myself."

"Really?" Mary asked, smiling now. "Is it Lola?"

"We're just getting to know each other, Princess," Remy told her, blushing slightly. "But we do fit quite well together. I was planning to invite her to see the family."

Mary and Francis winced and he nodded in reply.

"Alcoholic mother and authoritative father?" Remy muttered darkly. "We'll see, I'll have them on their best behaviour."

"I hope it goes well," Mary told him.

"Yeah, we wish you luck," Francis replied. "Lola seems like a great match for you. That, and she asked me what your favourite meal was."

Remy grinned. "That's why I had sushi delivered to my apartment the other day... That woman... The delivery person said it was from an admirer. I was confused - I have many."

Mary chuckled. "I hope that will end when you get with my friend officially."

"Oh, trust me, every admirer I've ever had will _know_ that their time is up," Remy replied, seeing his father wave him over. "It's time for me to bid you so long, farewell, Auf Wiedersehen, adieu." He bowed and left their side, leaving the couple alone.

Mary tutted, checking the time. "When does this end?"

"One," Francis replied. "It's not even..." He checked his watch. "Quarter to twelve yet."

"I'm so tired," Mary mumbled.

"We have been up since six this morning," Francis replied, leaning his forehead on the side of her head, his eyes closing.

Mary nodded, her eyes scanning the room for her mother or one of her uncles but they landed on Louis again. He was talking to Claude, the princess flirting shamelessly with her whatever times removed cousin and the man himself ignoring the flirting and continuing to hold a conversation.

Claude downed her drink and stumbled on her footing, making Mary realise that she was drunk. Louis left the girl's side and Mary shifted, making Francis wake up and realise where they were.

She giggled. "I'm so sorry."

"You're the most comfortable pillow in the world," he mumbled, kissing her cheek. "I hope no one saw that."

"No one saw the future King of France fall asleep at an event meant to _stay awake_. Only a few but they were the staff, they won't tell anyone," Mary replied, grinning. "Excuse me, husband."

Mary finished her drink and placed it on a passing tray as she made her way over to Claude. When she reached her, she noticed tears in Claude's eyes and Mary sighed, offering her an arm for support.

"Come with me," she told the girl.

Mary led Claude out and down the hallway until they reached a balcony and sat down. She handed Claude a tissue from her purse but Claude kept her tears at bay, lifting her chin up.

"What's wrong?"

Claude shook, shaking her head. "Nothing," she whispered, bowing her head.

Mary sighed, placing a hand on Claude's before looking at the moon. "'La luna' or 'la lune'?"

At first, Claude was confused but then she looked at the moon and said, "La lune."

"I'm half-French, but even I forget what the simplest things are called," Mary said softly.

"I want to name my daughter that. When I get married," Claude told Mary. "Luna."

"That's sweet. Just like Bash's horse," Mary replied, making Claude giggle and nod. "Claude, I know we've been at each other's throats but I really don't want to be. I just want to live in peace, happily married to Francis and with our baby..." She placed her free hand on her bump. "I have no time for petty teenage drama."

Claude sniffled. "Francis was always there for us, you know?"

"I know. He seems like the world's best big brother," Mary replied.

Claude nodded sadly. "But lately, it's all about you and the baby... I know it's supposed to be but growing up and having responsibilities is shitty. We're not even allowed to go to university but the boys can. We're supposed to be married off to rich men and pretend we're deeply in love by selling our romance for a few years and getting married. I want more. I've always wanted more... I turned eighteen last month and I'm scared of what comes after I finish school next year. None of my friends even like me, I don't know why I'm _here_."

Mary squeezed Claude's hand. "I know it's hard. You feel so isolated and alone and people use and abuse you," she said. "But you can either let them do that or do something yourself. Own the narrative and be your own person."

Claude wiped her tears. "When I was seven, Father took us to the FEGA where Bash was training. He was twelve and he was already the best rider they had. When Father went to speak to his coach, Bash let us brush his horse and I told him that I wanted to be a tennis player. He laughed and told me that I could be whatever I wanted..."

Mary knew what Claude was getting at. "He never said 'within reason'," she whispered.

Claude nodded. "That's when I knew that I wanted to leave this family, to break free. To do what I want, to _be_ who I want."

"Claude-"

"I've been living a lie and I'm scared," Claude continued, her tears returning and she turned to Mary. "They'll hate me, say that the Devil has corrupted my mind-"

"Claude, you're scaring me," Mary said, feeling Claude tighten her grip on her hand.

Claude ignored her. "But I can't keep this bottled up anymore. I can't do this anymore. Lie to everyone. Pretend I'm happy and wear fake smiles and parade about like we're the country's best family. But we're not. Because I'm broken."

Mary cupped her cheeks. "You're not broken, Claude. The truth will set you free."

Claude looked down. "I'm gay."

Mary breathed out in relief, hugging her tightly. "Oh, God. I thought it was bad."

Claude frowned. "What?"

"How you were getting at," Mary said, pulling away to look her in the eyes. "I thought you were thinking about..."

"Suicide," Claude finished for her. "I've contemplated it a few times, but I wouldn't say that I'm drawn to it."

Mary smiled, nodding. "That's good. Okay," she whispered. "You're gay!"

Claude laughed a little. "I am. You don't hate me?"

"Why would I hate you?"

"We're... Catholic."

Mary rolled her eyes. "I think although we should be mindful of our religion, we can't forget that God still made us and we are who we are. I don't know your parents well enough to work out their reactions should you tell them but I know your siblings will still love you-"

"Not Lissie," Claude scoffed. "Not her ever. Little Miss Fake Arse Modesty."

"Well, Elisabeth is a force to be reckoned with."

"And Mother's favourite," Claude snapped before sighing.

Mary shrugged. "It doesn't matter. Just be our little gay tennis player and make us proud because we already are."

Claude shyly smiled at her. "I'm sorry. For everything."

"It's fine."

"No," Claude told her. "You're genuinely nice. We hate change, that's all. A lot started after Bash saw us less and Father became busier and more absent. I just... needed someone who wouldn't judge."

Mary gave her a warm smile. "Be a leader Claude, lead by example and don't follow _anyone_ including older sisters."

"I hear you," Claude replied with a blush. "We should head back inside."

"We should."

When they stood up, Claude quickly hugged her tightly before letting go and both of them entered the party. Mary drifted off to Francis's side and saw Claude apologise to Louis who seemed surprised about the whole thing before getting her a soft drink.

"What happened?" Francis asked, gesturing to his sister.

Mary smiled. "Nothing much. Just a new friendship," she replied, making him grin.

New year, new relationships.

...

Sunday 12th January marked Mary's twenty-first and although her spirits were low due to trying to contact Kenna on her own birthday the day before on the 11th, her mood was lifted in the guise of a party. A traditional party from the Scottish half of her heritage.

She looked around, taking to laugh at her husband and his friends in kilts as she turned to her best friends and mother in shock. It was an intimate affair, it being a Sunday and her pregnancy was starting to take a toll on the upper regions of her body. She was now more prone to heartburn and constipation much to her dismay.

"Welcome to your kih-lid-her!" Francis announced, making his mother-in-law, Lola and Greer slap hands to their heads. "Oh. I-I'm sorry, I forgot how to-"

"Cèilidh," Mary said, laughing. "You don't pronounce the letter 'd'."

"I will remember that," Francis said nervously, meaning that he'd probably forget but he needed to remember.

Mary sniffled, wiping tears away. "This is the best thing anyone has done for me."

"Ahem?"

"Other than give me life and other things," Mary told her mother, giggling. "Francis..."

Francis waved it off, blushing as he grinned. "It's your twenty-first. I hope you'll do something _great_ for mine next month."

Mary nodded. "I will but being pregnant with your baby isn't enough?"

"F-Fair enough," he said, much to everyone's amusements.

"Right," Mary said, clapping her hands. "What poems have you got for me?"

After drinking, eating Scottish foods and indulging on poetry and stories by famous poets and novelists, everyone partnered off and danced, the Frenchmen getting steps mixed up and wrong.

"You're lucky I married you _before_ I found out you had two left feet," Mary jested.

Francis laughed. "I will improve for the next one."

"We'll have more?"

"Of course!" He cried out. "Our children will be French _and_ Scottish. We need to keep our traditions alive."

Mary's eyes watered and she kissed him, forgetting all about the dance which everyone continued to enjoy albeit sloppily. "I'm so happy you're in my life."

Francis smiled. It was only them in the whole world to him. "I'm glad to be. I don't intend on leaving it soon either."

They kissed again and pulled away to laugh when Julien tripped over Marie's feet and sent them both to the ground. Mary quickly went to help her mother up but Marie was still energetic and happy, kissing her daughter's forehead.

"I'm fine! I feel more alive than I have in _years_," Marie told her, hugging her daughter tightly. "Happy birthday, Marie!"

Mary beamed. "Thank you, Maman."

After a while, Lola took the stage and held up sheets of paper with poems written on it.

"'Auld Lang Syne'," she announced, giving the sheets of paper to the men. "It's by Robert Burns, a Scottish poet and although we've passed the new year, it still technically is as this poem, its traditional use is to bid farewell to the old year at the stroke of midnight on New Year's Eve. It's also said at funerals, graduations, and as a farewell or ending to other occasions, like today. it means a variety of things but you could overall say that it means 'for the sake of old times'. I've provided you, men, with the English version, and the ladies and I will do Burn's original as going too Scottish may put you off from saying it. It's pretty strong."

They laughed and Greer stood beside her as Marie and Mary remained seated.

The women began the poem.

"_Should auld acquaintance be forgot, and never brought to mind? Should auld acquaintance be forgot, and auld lang syne?..._"


	14. Little Miss Fixer-Upper

**You guys know how much I love Frary, I just can't stop being inspired by songs to write about them. Honestly, I want a romance like theirs. I had writer's block and I guess I will reintroduce Kenna so I don't really have to keep writing the same things regarding Frary. I added Claude's story and I aim to tackle the rest of the Valois children. Mary's got some damage control to do as she delves deep into their lives, things their parents have missed and one by one, she helps them. Kenna's story is a side story and she and Bash will be linked (you all know how much I love my Kennash too). It is Life at 'Fontainebleau' after all, haha. Also, I watch Hawaii Five-O and the recent episode had me in tears and gave me an idea. I'm evil, you'll see why.**

****Quote of the chapter: "God gave us memory so we might have roses in December." - J. M. Barrie.****

* * *

"I'm going to be late..." Mary mumbled, checking her phone was in her bag as she hurried down the hallways to meet Francis at the car.

It was her first public appearance - the school visits. They were going to three schools today. Morning at one, midday at another and the end of the school day at the third. She was excited, kids being adorable and smart for their ages at times.

Mary gasped when she bumped into someone and mentally cursed, looking up to see Louis Bourbon. She planted a polite smile on her face and adjusted her handbag onto her shoulder.

"Comte de Condé," she greeted him. "I really must go but it's love-"

"Did you know that we're related?"

Mary frowned a little before realising. "Oh, my grandmother - Antoinette de Bourbon."

"Oui," Louis said with a gentle smile. "Your mother is my cousin."

Mary blinked. "I'm s-sorry, _how_?"

"First the Valoises, then the Medicis and now the Guises," Louis muttered. "Really trying to erase the Bourbon links, aren't you?"

Mary laughed nervously. "Until recently, I never knew who you were. My mother doesn't talk about her side that much. I'm trying to _embrace_ my French side now."

Louis nodded, accepting her answer. "Your mother's mother is my father's younger sister. You see, your grandmother had your mother when-"

"She was twenty, I know that," Mary said through gritted teeth. She didn't need a history lesson about _her_ own family. Perhaps she should speak to her mother for herself. "I get it now. And your father had you and your siblings late?"

Louis chuckled lightly. "He was fifty when he had my eldest brother. Marcus is forty now."

"So there are twenty years between my grandmother and her brother. I see," Mary replied. "And your father was in his late sixties when he had you. How... strange."

Louis shrugged. "Well, you can't choose your family."

"You can't," she agreed. "I really must go but thank you... for the history lesson."

Louis stepped aside. "You're welcome, Duchess. I hope you enjoy your day."

"I will," she said tersely before leaving.

When she got downstairs and to the car, she told Francis not to ask why she was late as she got inside the car first. He joined her and watched as she did her seatbelt, copying her actions as Michel and Fabian took the front seats with Michel driving.

He pressed a button and a screen blocked them from their security guards. He turned to his wife, eyebrows curious.

"You look stressed. Is it the baby?"

Mary shook her head. "No, I was stopped by Louis Bourbon. Why is he here?"

Francis scowled. "Every year, on the fifteenth of January which is today, a member of the Bourbon family signs an edict to basically ensure us that they won't cause trouble."

"Oh."

"For the past decade, it has been Madeleine, Louis's older sister. It seems that he's been given the honour from now on," Francis said. "Madeleine's the only sane one of the family. Her brothers are arseholes."

Mary winced. "Well, my mother is their cousin," Mary said. "Through her mother, Antoinette."

Francis clicked his tongue. "That's right. Your grandmother is their creepy father's younger sister. Well, obviously I meant your maternal grandmother's side of the family is sane."

Mary chuckled, kissing him. "I bet if I saw Meme Tonie and asked of Great Uncle Charles, she wouldn't even remember her own brother."

"Dementia's hard," Francis said gently.

Mary nodded sadly. "She loves her care home though. By the beach, peace and quiet."

"My own meme suffered from dementia," Francis replied, taking her hand as the car left the chateau and went onto the main roads. "She had told my father that if she ever got it, she'd want to die. So we sent her to Switzerland and collected her ashes a month later."

Mary gasped. "I'm so sorry."

"It happens," Francis said, shrugging. "We told everyone it was natural causes. The world believed it, the Queen Mother dying peacefully in her sleep. They never knew she didn't recognise us at times."

"That's how it feels with Meme Tonie," Mary whispered. "My mother used to have me on FaceTime whenever she visited her mum. Meme never knew who I was personally. She'd been there when I was born and that was the only time we were in the same airspace. Even at family gatherings and festivals, she wasn't there. At least when I was."

"I'm sure it wasn't personal-"

"It was," Mary mumbled. "She never liked my father, according to Maman. She tried to avoid me because I looked like him."

Francis frowned. "Baby, I'm so sorry."

Mary smiled. "It's fine. She's still family and the only grandmother I have left. Even if she doesn't know who I am. But it doesn't matter because I still have my aunts, my uncles, my cousins and you when my mum dies."

"And our baby," Francis added, placing a hand on her tummy.

Mary grinned happily. "And our baby."

The rest of the journey was made in silence and not once did Francis remove his hand from her bump.

...

"_Frère Jacques, Frère Jacques. Dormez-vous? Dormez-vous?..._" Mary and Francis sang with the children as they swayed side to side.

It was fun and Mary was surprised to receive a book after they finished singing from one of the children. She turned to their aide who nodded along with the teacher and Mary had the children make themselves comfortable so she and Francis could take turns in reading out pages to them.

After the book, it was time to bid 'goodbye' and Mary wished she had more time with them.

"Merci beaucoup for having us!" Mary told them, accepting a tight hug from one boy. "Thank you! The baby loved that hug."

The boy giggled and waved at her bump, making everyone swoon. Even Francis who shook the boy's hand and was surprised to be hugged as well.

"That's the best hug I've ever had!" He said. "Do you think you and your friends would love one big one?"

He nodded along with his classmates and Francis knelt down, bringing all the children in for one big hug as Mary stepped back so her bump wasn't crushed by the horde of primary school children. Instead, she waved and beamed happily, placing a hand on her bump which made some of the little girls squeal in excitement.

"Are you having a dauphin?" One girl asked.

"Or dauphine?" Another one asked.

Mary and Francis shared an amused glance before announcing together, "We want it to be a surprise."

The teacher chuckled. "Of course," she said. "We are all excited either way. Merci beaucoup for coming!"

At the second school, they got there in time before lunchtime and played with puppets with the children before singing again. Mary knew she had to work on her singing skills now because all these children loved singing and she definitely wanted to spread that joy to her own child.

"_Sonnez les matines. Sonnez les matines. Ding, ding, dong. Ding, ding, dong..._"

Again, the excitement was in the air regarding her pregnancy and again, they announced they were keeping it a secret. Mary loved this, she wished she could do this every day.

By the third and final school, both Dauphin and Dauphine were tired out. Singing, reading, puppets... They wondered what was next.

This time, parents were able to sit in with their children as the couple greeted the kids. Francis did finger-painting and Mary made after-school snacks made up of fruits and homemade biscuits.

Mary grinned, wiping some batter from a girl's cheek. "I'm going to have to take this recipe home with me!" She said to the little girl. "What do you think?"

"The baby will love it," the girl replied, giggling when Mary gave her a wink.

Mary looked up and saw Francis wriggle his green-stained fingers at a boy's way, making the adults laugh.

"I've become the Hulk!" Francis cried out. "What do I do?"

"That's not the Hulk's colour!" Another boy said. "That's Shrek's colour!"

Francis gasped. "Is it?"

Mary laughed, returning her attention back to the food. "Do you think your parents would love to try some?"

The girls nodded.

"Alright, let's put them in the oven and put ten minutes on the timer!"

By the time they left, it was quarter past four and when the doors were closed in the car, both let out big yawns.

"Who knew children were so tiring?" Francis asked.

"Who knew they were so smart?" Mary asked.

Michel laughed as he began to drive."Well, you're having one so get ready for tired-filled nights and smart brains."

"Trust me," Francis began, kissing the back of Mary's hand. "We're ready for whatever comes our way."

...

Mary forced a smile on her face as Catherine kissed her cheeks before moving onto Francis, holding his hands and turning to Mary with a bright smile on her face. She was going for a few weeks on a charity tour. Mary couldn't wait for the peace, her mother-in-law contacting her every day to see how the baby was despite changes barely happening overnight.

"One day, you'll be a spokesperson for World Vision France," Catherine told Mary. "I'll be travelling to Rwanda, Canada and Tanzania. The work doesn't stop after that. I'll be returning to France before Valentine's day to oversee our France Against Racism Scheme and how we'll impact the world."

Mary's smile became genuine. "Do you mind if I become involved with the scheme?"

Catherine beamed. "Of course not! The more the merrier. Anyway, I only came to say farewell. I need to be at the airport in thirty minutes..." She checked her mobile. "Stay safe, darlings!"

As she walked away, Francis led Mary the opposite way a grin on his face.

"Why are you smiling?"

He turned to her. "No more 4 AM calls," he said. "Her time differences will be haywire, we're free!"

Mary giggled. "I was just thinking that myself." She patted her bump. "Just you, me and bump."

"And Sterling."

Mary nodded. "And Sterling," she said, hugging his arm. "I love you, Francis."

Francis turned to her. "I love you too, my love."

...

Kenna finished writing the list of things she ate for lunch that day, underneath her breakfast. She had requested the hotel to bring her food three times a day and to take back the plates _empty_ after thorough checks that she didn't dispose of the food. It was a strange request but anything for the large tips she left every time.

Day by day, she was feeling better. More energetic, more healed. Her heart was mending, but it was still early days. She felt sick though, having jumped into bed with Antoine who she met the day she left France. She had left straight away when he fell asleep, feeling disgusted and ashamed for committing herself to another man. She _was_ married after all. Maybe that's why the French royals did that. Sign the papers first and do the rest after - to trap people. Of course, they wouldn't and couldn't trap her, but the idea of belonging to someone who didn't want her felt like a prison. She couldn't commit adultery and now, she spent her nights and days alone.

She sang, strummed her guitar aimlessly, tried to smile... Things just weren't going her way sometimes but she was getting there. Despite having a stalker.

It began a day after the wedding when she arrived in Sweden. She'd receive pictures of photos taken of her. Horrible words were written on them, threatening and hateful.

Kenna paid them no mind but then, they began to take pictures of her in the hotels she stayed at. She changed hotels frequently, keeping with the same franchise so they knew her dietary requirements. She went under false names, but still, he found her. She ignored him, but he was persistent.

Not that she would let him win. She had stalkers before, it wasn't anything she couldn't handle.

A knock on the door distracted her from her thoughts and she got up, heading to the door to peep through the hole.

She sighed heavily and undid the chain of the door, opening it. "Bash," she mumbled, letting him inside before quickly shutting the door behind him and doing the chain link.

"Hey," he whispered, watching her go over to the table where she removed her diary and other material.

Kenna swallowed deeply, shoving the items into a drawer. "Hi," she replied, slipping her hair behind her ear before wrapping her arms around her middle. "How did you find me?"

"You do know who I am, right?" He asked lightly.

Kenna nodded. "Fair enough," she said. "What are you doing here?"

"I've been here for a few weeks," he admitted, taking a seat on her bed. "The first thing I wanted to do was to see you but I was too much of a coward to do so."

Kenna frowned. "Why?"

Bash shrugged. "I don't know," he said honestly. "I just... you were alone and I wanted to help-"

"I'm not some maiden needed to be saved," she snapped.

"You're not," he said, smiling a little. "I'm not saying you are either. But I was worried."

Kenna wanted to tell him about her stalker but she kept silent about that. "I'm fine."

"You look... _better_," Bash stated proudly.

Kenna blushed, looking away. "I'm eating properly," she told him, grabbing her diary from the drawer and chucking it at him. "I don't count calories or anything. It's just... easier to do it like this."

Bash flicked through the papers, noting that she started on Christmas Day. "That's great. Guess me coming here wasn't needed."

Kenna bit her lip, taking a seat at the table. "How are Francis and Mary?"

Bash smiled brightly. "They're great. Excited, we all are. Mary's growing every day and Francis looks like he could explode with all the happiness inside him."

"That's good. And her birthday?"

"I heard from Francis that it was wonderful, memorable," he replied.

Kenna nodded, swallowing deeply. "I-I wanted to send something but..." She was too busy running away from some guy who threatened to kill her. "I didn't have time."

"It was your birthday the day before, right?"

"Yeah."

Bash took something out of his pocket and stood up, handing it to her. "Open it."

Kenna eyed him warily before opening the box and she gasped when she saw a photo of her and Olenna. Tears sprung to her eyes and she hugged the photo frame. "I miss her, I miss everyone."

"Come home-"

"It's not home," she said, looking at him with blurred eyes. "It never was. I'm so stupid and disgusting and-"

She was quietened by Bash hugging her tightly, pressing a long kiss on the side of her head as she sobbed. She dug her face into his chest and shook, the frame falling out of her hands as she wrapped her arms around his body as if he'd disappear.

"I'm tired," she whispered. "I just want to be happy."

Bash pulled back and cupped her cheeks, forcing her to look at him. "You can be."

"How?" She croaked out. "Everybody hates me, you ditched me during our wedding vows, nobody cares-"

"Let's get out of here."

"What?"

"Let's just get out of here. Out of this hotel and go... _anywhere_," he breathed out, resting his forehead against hers.

Kenna studied his eyes before pressing her lips against his. At first, he didn't respond as she straddled his hips cupping his cheeks as she nibbled at his bottom lip. Slowly, he caught on, his hands resting on her waist as he gripped tightly to the knit sweater she was wearing, groaning when she ground against him.

"Why?" She asked, pulling away. "Why are you doing this?"

"I'm not good at love, Kenna," Bash whispered. "But I want to try. I want to learn. I want _you, us_."

Kenna sighed, getting off him as she went to her bed and sat down. "Bash, I don't have the strength..." She began, rubbing her face. "To do this back and forth-"

"You're my wife-"

"Yet you left me," she cut him off. "You left me, Sebastian."

Bash nodded slowly. "I know."

"Do you really?" Kenna asked incredulously. "That article afterwards... Even before... Face it, you made your decision ages ago concerning me. We were fun, that's all. That night was amazing but it was never meant to go beyond that."

Bash got up and knelt in front of her, taking her hands in his own. "Do you trust me?"

Kenna scoffed. "Last time I did, I was dumped at an altar, Bash."

"Well, I can't promise you a big wedding on short notice but I booked a registry office appointment just for the sake of vows-"

"Bash-"

"And we can be there in an hour," he breathed out. "If you want me that is."

Kenna stared at him disbelief. "B-But-"

"You're my one and only, Kenna," he said. "I've fallen in love with you, stupid."

Kenna laughed. "I'm not stupid."

"No," he said. "That's _me_. I guess absence makes the heart grow fonder."

"I don't know what to say-"

"I do," he replied. "Say 'yes'."

Kenna grinned. "Yes."

...

Francis pressed a kiss on Mary's hairline, making her eyes flutter open. "It's dinner time," he whispered.

Mary smiled tiredly, reaching a hand to cup his cheek. "The children took a lot out of me," she said.

Francis chuckled. "_Anne_."

"Anne?"

"A consideration," Francis stated. "I've always loved the name and... your mother suggested it. She was going to name you that before your many female relatives insisted on you joining the long line of Marys and Maries."

Mary chuckled softly. "It's beautiful."

Francis beamed. "People are already betting about what names we'd give our child. 'Henry' is a strong contender before my name."

"Dear God..." Mary muttered, getting out of the bed with Francis's help, not that she needed it. "Can we just put a cross through your father's name?"

"Trust me, even my father doesn't want us to name our child after him."

"I know," she replied, kissing him before heading into the bathroom to freshen up. "He cornered me and I suggested my father's name."

Francis leant against the doorjamb. "Jaques."

"Yeah," she said. "King Jaques I of France. We'd call him 'Jamie', short for James."

"Already named our son, have we?" Francis teased her.

"You can choose his middle names-"

"My name it is," Francis said. "You're not allowed to veto it! He's our firstborn son."

Mary giggled, brushing her hair. "What if he turns out to be _her_?"

"Annie it is," Francis replied coyly.

"That's so sweet!"

"See, told you that I am good when it comes to naming kids," he told her, wrapping his arms around her waist. "I helped my parents with the last three they had."

"No wonder you're an expert," she mumbled. "Better at this than me."

"Because my parents had children so that we could raise each other," Francis replied."Your mother was hands-on, my siblings and I had each other. Claude is in better spirits."

Mary smiled to herself, fixing her earrings on. "That's good to know."

"What magic sorcery have you performed?"

"Just the usual," Mary replied casually, making him laugh and press a kiss onto the back of her head.

"So beautiful," he mumbled, viewing her through the mirror.

Mary closed her eyes when his lips attacked her neck and she gripped onto his hair, his hands sliding down her hips. "How long have we got?"

"No time at all," he replied breathlessly. "But I don't give a shit."

He spun her around and lifted her so she sat on the sink counter and began to undo the buttons on her cardigan as her hands worked on his belt.

"We really need to pick reasonable times for this," she said, pressing her lips against his.

Francis grinned against her lips. "But where would the fun be in that?"

...

Kenna stared at the car keys in disbelief. "You're joking?"

Bash gave her a look. "Have I ever kidded you?"

A grin grew on her face. "A _Bugatti Veyron_?"

"It's a rental, don't get too excited," he said. "I remember your love for fast things."

Kenna squealed, unlocking the car and getting inside as he did the same. "Oh my God, it's _real_."

"I don't take pleasure in hiring or buying fake things," Bash teased her, watching her run her hands over the leather of the steering wheel, her rings back on her finger, including the one he was meant to put on after their vows. However, his mother kept her ring for now.

"I can't believe this," she breathed out in shock, her eyes landing on her rings.

"You better believe it. We're married, we can't be unmarried and we've just done the vows to cement it. So, you can't run away from me now," he said. "Or ever."

Kenna sent him a mischievous wink. "We'll see," she said jokingly.

"I have something to show you," he said, setting up the GPS. "I made some arrangements. I spoke to my father about my plans - using Sweden as a second residence."

Kenna gasped. "You bought a house?"

"_We_ bought a house," he said, kissing her cheek as they put their seatbelts on. "He had to speak with the King of Sweden and the Prime Minister because it's not every day someone from another royal family moves to countries ruled by someone else."

Kenna blushed, smiling softly. "You did all this for me?"

"I have to protect my wife," he said, taking her hand. "We can live in peace, perform our duties to France and my father and avoid the bad stuff. Whenever it gets too much, just let me know."

Kenna nodded happily and started the car. "Oh, she's beautiful!"

Bash chuckled. "Don't drive too fast," he told her. "Maximus and Miranda won't be able to catch up with us."

Kenna turned to Bash coyly. "We haven't consummated our marriage so... we'll see about that."

She pressed down on the accelerator.

...

The next morning in France, Mary got some fresh air in the gardens of Fontainebleau after Francis needed to see his father about one of their charities. She found Charles laying on his back, staring up at the grey, sunless sky with a sigh here and there.

Curiously, she laid beside him and pointed to the sky. "I see... _nothing_."

"Exactly," Charles said much to her confusion. "Nothing."

"What's wrong?"

Charles sighed. "Everything."

Mary was confused but she kept her confusion and asked, "Why aren't you at school?"

"Teacher's training day-"

"That's a lie," Mary said.

Charles smiled wryly. "There's this girl..."

"Oh," Mary said, grinning a little. "What about her?"

"I messed things up with her."

Mary tutted. "How?"

"I was with some friends of mine and they talked about her _body_. They asked me what I liked about her body when she walked past and I said that I liked nothing about her," he replied, groaning. "But I didn't mean that - I only meant that I didn't want to objectify her and she turned and glared at me before going to her friends. We'd been flirting for a while and I've messed things up."

Mary nudged his shoulder a little. "You're sweet. Just like Francis, wanting to respect women rather than objectify them."

Charles rolled his eyes. "Maybe I should have said that I liked her arse-"

"No," Mary said. "Never, unless you're in a relationship with her. Women won't appreciate being complimented by bodily parts. It was just a little misunderstanding, you didn't need to take a day off school."

"Governess d'Humières already signed me off with an upset stomach and diarrhoea," Charles told her.

Mary raised her eyebrows. "You need to be signed off when you're sick?"

Charles nodded with a smirk. "A little laxatives help sell the story because we get checked, thoroughly. I've learnt from Claude."

"Oh, Charles..." Mary muttered lightly.

"It's _Charlie_," he corrected her. "Well, to family."

Mary smiled. "Alright, _Charlie_. What you need to go and do is to tell your friends to _stop_ objectifying women and go and tell this girl that you're willing to make things up to her. Ask her out on a date."

Charles laid on his side to face her. "Then what next?"

"Take things steady or if things don't work well, try again with someone else when you're ready," she said. "Just remember, you don't always need to have a girlfriend or boyfriend just to fit in with society. You're a prince, you have more than the usual stuck up rich private school-attending kid. You set examples, don't follow them."

"You're right," Charles said, sitting up and helping her up as well. "Thanks, Your Highness."

Mary scoffed lightly. "I'm sorry?"

"Mother said that us younger ones had to call you that," Charles told her with a blush. "You will be queen one day and we'll be your subjects."

Mary rolled her eyes. "I'm your sister-in-law," she said. "No matter how old you are, I will always be called _Mary_ by you. Except in public situations, I can see Catherine's point but when we're at home, call me whatever you want. I'm on your level, I'm not above anyone."

"You're great, Mary," Charles replied. "I'm glad Francis married you."

Mary beamed. "I'm glad he married me too."

...

Kenna's heart was racing and she turned to Bash. "Do you think he knows where we are?"

"You managed to lose him," he said, checking the wing mirror.

They were in the middle of nowhere and Kenna sighed in relief, leaning her head back as her heart started to calm down. "And the security guards, do they know where we are?"

Bash nodded. "I have my tracker on. They're thirty minutes out."

"Why didn't you let me know that you knew about this?"

Bash frowned, turning to her. "Why didn't _you_ tell me?"

"I don't know who it is," she mumbled. "It started on Christmas Day and... I had to move around a lot."

"Why didn't you call? I would have had it sorted with within minutes," he told her. "I promised to protect you."

Kenna shrugged, shaking her head as tears sprung to her eyes. "I thought you didn't care."

"I'll always care about you," Bash said. "Come here." He gestured to his lap and she climbed over, straddling his hips. "I will find out who is doing this to you. He keeps covering his tracks but I have contacts who can help me stop this man from ever hurting you."

Kenna nodded slowly, leaning down to kiss him. "Thank you."

"I also _donated_ money to the newspapers who wrote those stories about you," he said.

Kenna frowned. "Why?"

"Generous donations to keep silent about all things concerning you. I asked if they had anything better to report on, like how people in France are starving and need help," Bash told her. "They should use their bases to do good and not destroy people's lives."

Kenna bit her lip. "You're wonderful," she told him, cupping his cheeks and kissing him. Her hands slid down his chest and she reached the belt buckle of his trousers. "May I?"

"We have thirty minutes until my team arrive. Go on then," he said with a grin, letting her undo his belt.

"Not the place I was thinking about when I thought about consummating our marriage," she said with a giggle when his lips attacked her neck and she began to undo the buttons on the front of her dress. "But okay."

His hands massaged her thighs and he looked up at her. "We could find somewhere other than the side of a road."

"No," she breathed out, slipping her dress off and working on her bra. "This is much more _exciting_."

"We could get caught," he said, kissing her collarbone. "And I'm pretty sure there's a law against sex in public places?"

Kenna playfully rolled her eyes. "We're in the middle of nowhere! This is as private as it can get. And the risk is _sexy_."

Bash tutted. "I can't complain when you put it like that," he mumbled, attacking her exposed breasts, making her back arch in response. "I missed this."

"Shut up," Kenna breathed out, kissing him. "And make love to me."

...

_Two down, a million more to go_, Mary thought to herself lightly as she headed to Margaret's sleeping quarters. She found the teenager flicking through a magazine as classical music played.

"Have you heard from the Comtessa?" Margo asked sweetly.

Mary shook her head. "I haven't," she said sadly. "I'm sure she misses us."

Margo frowned, her eyes falling. "She was teaching me Japanese. I guess I have to hire a tutor now."

"I'm sure Kenna will return soon," Mary said. "She will return and pick up right where you left off."

Margo sighed, licking her finger and turning the page. "I hope so..."

"Until then, why don't you stay at Versailles with Francis and me so I could teach you?"

Margo gasped, eyeing her in excitement. "Really?"

Mary chuckled. "Really. I don't know Japanese, but I do know Mandarin. I could also teach a little basic English Literature - I've been reading up on poems and novels and we could form our own little book club."

Margaret squealed, clapping her hands. "Mary Stuart you are a godsend!"

Mary laughed, accepting the hug from her sister-in-law. "I try," she teased lightly. "When would you like to start?"

"Uh, today?" Margo quickly suggested.

Mary nodded. "Sure. An hour before dinner this evening?"

"And can we do this every day? Or every day that you are available to do so because you obviously have your duties and-"

"It's fine!" Mary said, laughing. "It's fine. I don't mind."

"Wonderful! I'll see you later on?"

Mary stood up, grinning. "Definitely."

She headed out of the bedroom and left the quarters, almost bumping into Elisabeth who was coming in. Mary sighed and rolled her eyes, trying to walk around her but Lissie's voice stopped her.

"I hear you're solving problems for my siblings," the blonde said, readjusting her Gucci handbag on her arm.

Mary turned around and faced her, noting that she had sunglasses on. In Winter. "I'm not solving anyone's problems. It wasn't anything they couldn't have thought of themselves."

Lissie swallowed deeply. "Hmm, right. My younger siblings aren't the smartest people in the world, so I highly doubt that."

"Don't underestimate them," Mary snapped, turning back around to leave.

"Wait!"

Mary paused, clenching her fists as she turned again. "What is it, Princess Elisabeth?"

Elisabeth sighed. "I need your help."

"I'm sure the security guards or one of the courtiers could-"

"I need your advice," Elisabeth whispered. "Considering that I'm... in _your_ position."

Mary frowned, confused. "A princess?"

"No," Elisabeth mumbled. "The other thing."

Mary racked her brain. She knew Elisabeth wasn't married like her and it dawned on her quickly. "Take me to your room."

On Elisabeth's bed, she showed Mary the three tests. "A friend of mine's mum had many bought for whatever reason so I stole three. They're all positive."

Mary rubbed her face. "Shit," she mumbled. "Whose is it?"

"My ex," Elisabeth said angrily. "I knew there was something wrong when he said 'uh oh'. The condom must have broke."

"Why are you even having sex, Elisabeth?" Mary asked incredulously. "You're a princess! Anything could happen like _this_. Better yet, what about the pill or-"

"I tried a few and they made me feel awful and gain weight," Lissie said. "I thought he was a good guy. Until your whore of a friend and bitch of a sister-in-law to both of us paid him to cheat on me with that slut, LoLo Jouer."

Mary sighed heavily. "Elisabeth, I can't help you with this-"

"I need to get rid of it. I mean, I only slept with him again for pity's sake. I don't deserve to be landed with his baby if he doesn't even love me," Elisabeth cut her off. "We had sex last month so there's still time."

Mary couldn't believe what she was hearing or seeing. "Elisabeth, we don't believe in-"

"Abortion, I know," the blonde snapped, tears threatening to fall from her eyes. "But here we are."

Mary sat there, shaking her head. "Right," she mumbled. "Is there anyone we could trust with this discretion?"

"Fabian," Elisabeth said firmly. "Michel will tell his father and Gautier will tell mine."

"I see," Mary whispered. "And your mother is away so-"

"No one will ever find out because nothing gets past her. Only when she's gone, we can all breathe," Elisabeth said shakily. "Mary, I know I've not been the nicest to you since you arrived but I have my reasons. They might be misunderstood but all I know is that if you help me, I will forever be grateful. You won't even hear a peep out of me."

Mary swallowed deeply, meeting her eyes. "Stay with us at Versailles for a while, to let things take its course."

Elisabeth shakily nodded, breathing out a sigh of relief. "Thank you, thank you, thank you!" She gripped onto Mary's hands. "Thank you so much."

Mary nodded and brought her in for a hug, disbelief in her eyes at what she was helping this woman do. She hoped her soul won't be damned or that the King, Queen and Dauphin wouldn't hate her. She was quickly understanding how hard it was in this family to do something as simple as communication.

...

Bash's eyes opened and he groaned, feeling something press against his arm. He turned to the left and saw the offending object - the car door pressed onto his frame, smashed and crumpled.

He winced, closing his eyes as images flashed into his mind. They'd finished up making love, went back on the road with him driving this time but then someone ran them off the road and down the ditch. They flipped a few times and landed upright but crushed against a tree. That tree was on his side.

Bash heard a whimper and he turned to Kenna, reaching his right hand to her cheek to wake her up. Her eyes fluttered open and she sat there for a while before coming out of her thoughts and turning to Bash.

"Are you alright?" He asked her, feeling pain shoot up into his arm.

Kenna shakily nodded. "I-I think so," she whispered. "C-Can't feel m-my one of my legs though."

She refused to look down but Bash did and winced when he saw her right leg crushed against the compartment area of the car. It was all red and bloody, her skin purpling as her breathing became laboured.

"Bash?"

"I'm here," he whispered. "Just focus on my voice, okay?"

He needed to get out. Call for help.

He retrieved his phone from the ground by his feet and saw that it was smashed. He tried turning it on, but it didn't work. He turned to Kenna.

"Where's your phone?"

Kenna frowned. "I-I didn't bring it."

"Okay," he said, deciding not to berate her because why should she bring her phone? Before now, she didn't expect to leave her hotel room. "Right. I'm going to get out and find-"

"Don't leave me," Kenna croaked out, tears springing to her eyes. "Please."

"Babe, I need to," he said, undoing his seatbelt with difficulty and releasing the pressure on his arm. "I need to find help."

"Where?" She cried out. "We're in the middle of nowhere!"

Bash knew that but he also knew that his security guards had their location before when they took that stop. They were fifteen minutes behind by the time they left but barely got a chance to continue their journey before being rammed off the road.

"Remember, they have our location," he stated, adjusting himself so he could kick the broken windshield and get out from the front of the car. "Just stay calm."

"How can I?" She whispered, her eyes fluttering down to her legs that were so bloody, she couldn't see where her leg began and ended. "Oh my God."

"Kenna-"

"Oh my God."

"Kenna," Bash said, getting back into his seat and cupping her cheek. "Stay. Calm."

Kenna nodded, her brown eyes searching his green eyes. "Y-You said they were coming. S-So stay."

Bash sighed. He knew she wouldn't let him go without a fight so he nodded. "I need to stop the blood."

"My scarf's in the boot."

Crawling his way out of the windshield. He lifted the hood and retrieved her wool black scarf before shutting the boot and going over to her side to pull open the door.

Once he had the door open, he could access her injuries better and she kept her gaze forward, tears streaming down her cheeks. He reached up and wiped a tear before using the scarf to tie around her thigh to stem the blood.

"Argh," she cried out, squinting her eyes shut when he accidentally caused her pain. She knew he had to tie hard, the blood wouldn't stop with a measly loose tie.

"What should we name our children?" He asked, taking his jacket off and putting it over her shoulders.

Kenna shrugged. "W-Why are we-"

"Go on, suggest some names."

Kenna swallowed deeply. "Uh, Robert after my d-dad."

"That's a nice option," Bash easily said, wiping sweat from her head as he knelt down beside her, shivering. He didn't care, as long as she was warm and the bleeding was controlled.

Kenna smiled a little, a sob escaping her lips. "G-Give me one, then. W-What if we had a daughter?"

Bash sniffled. "Anastasie."

"That's your grandmother's-"

"Name, yes," he said. "Save your strength. Don't talk."

Kenna bit her lip and nodded, her tears still falling.

"I will find out who did this," he promised her, taking her cold hand and kissing it. He looked up and saw her eyes blinking slowly. "Stay awake for me."

She nodded, trying to stay alert.

"I've got to go and see where they're at," he said, letting go of her hand and getting up. "But I will be back very soon. Just stay awake."

"Oh-kay," she breathed out.

Bash sighed in relief and headed up the ditch, almost slipping but he kept his grip and ignored the pain in his left arm as he scrambled up to the top and breathed heavily, resting his head on the road.

When he had enough strength, he stood up and walked a few metres down, hoping to hear any sign of life. All he could hear were animals, birdsong and he looked around, his green eyes wide and alert.

He winced when his head began to throb and he squatted down pressing his fingers against the side of his head. More images from earlier coming back to him, the number plate on the car as it sped past them, the face behind it...

"Antoine?" He breathed out in confusion before succumbing to the darkness.

...

By night, Mary made her way to her and Francis's bedroom at Versailles. She had just petted a distraught Elisabeth to sleep and left her in the care of Margaret who promised to take care of her twin sister.

Mary yawned and smiled at Michel when he passed her.

"Going to bed, Miss Busy Body?"

Mary laughed. "I could have you sent to the dungeons for that!"

Michel grinned. "Nothing gets past me, Your Highness," he said. "Goodnight."

"Goodnight, Mich-"

She was cut off by Michel's phone ringing and his eyes furrowing in concern as he answered the call. He took a sharp intake of breath and turned to Mary as the person on the line spoke.

Mary was about to leave, to give him some privacy but he held up a hand to stop her. She watched as he mumbled replies back in French before ultimately hanging up and turning to her.

"We need to find the Dauphin," he said quickly, scrolling through his phone urgently.

Mary's heart jumped. "What is it? Is it his mother? Is she okay?"

"It's not his mother," Michel said as they started walking towards her and Francis's bedroom. "I have just received news from the security team my father organised for the Duke of Orléans. He and your cousin were involved in a car accident in Sweden. Both are in critical condition."

Mary gasped in horror and the next thing she knew, she saw black as her head hit the floor.


	15. Bubba & Ranci and Mare & Kens

**Quotes of the chapter: **

**"Sometimes being a brother is even better than being a superhero." – Marc Brown.**

**"Cousins are Sisters you never had." – Reah Glowstorl.**

* * *

Mary groaned, opening her eyes to find out that she was in bed. The lights were off, save for the standing lamp next to the armchairs by the fireplace where Francis sat, his knee nervously moving up and down.

She sat up and turned her lamp on. "Francis?"

Francis turned to her, getting up to sit on the bed by her legs. "How are you feeling?"

Mary shook her head. "How are they?"

"I don't know," he whispered sadly. "Dad's gone to Sweden. Uh, Diane was called - she was in Spain visiting her daughters. I was going to go but I didn't want to leave you alone."

"Has anyone called Kenna's parents?"

He nodded. "They're coming straight to France as we speak."

Mary covered her face, trying her best not to cry but she failed and she let out a whimper as Francis leant in to pull her to his chest. She wrapped her arms around his neck and cried, digging her face into the crook of his neck.

"Michel said they were in critical condition," Mary said. "We should go."

"We have to stay," Francis said gently. "My father is there, we have to remain in France."

Mary pulled back to look at him. "But why? He's your brother-"

"_Half-_brother," Francis said, strained. "People expect us to keep certain distances. As much as I want to see him for myself, I can't. We don't know how the accident happened, anything could be the case and it's for safety precautions."

"Otherwise our child will be king or queen," Mary mumbled, realising where he was getting at.

"Don't worry," Francis quickly said. "They're being flown over very soon and will be taken to the American Hospital of Paris. It's a private hospital and their care will be handled there."

Mary sniffled, wiping her tears. "How far away is it?"

"It's in Neuilly-sur-Seine. Just about thirty minutes from here."

She nodded, breathing shakily. "I just had a bad feeling but I ignored it. If I had known, I would have told someone to find her-"

"Don't do this to yourself," Francis said, taking her hands in his. "You'll do more damage than harm. No one could have known, not her or Bash or anyone."

"I thought I told you to let him know that he should stay away-"

"We both know my brother's a free spirit," Francis said carefully. "We don't know-"

"The security he asked for, maybe that's linked to today-"

"Mary, you need to rest."

Mary's face scrunched up and she started to cry again. "What if this was done on purpose? Kenna received death threats, Francis. The moment the article about her and your dad went out... nothing was the same."

Francis sighed. "I will look into it. My father will have no one but the best on the case. I know Bash, he's a careful driver. At one point, we both had this stupid dream to be F1 drivers. He's great with fast cars so I don't believe that he'd run himself off a cliff, even with a dodgy car."

"Will your father let us French take over or will he be respectful and let King Carl and his police handle it?"

"I hope there would be a mixture. The Swedes know their roads and our own police force has good men and women there who will do everything to find out what happened."

Mary nodded choppily, her breathing uneven as her sobs escaped from her lips. "What do we do?"

"We wait," Francis said, his voice breaking. "Oh, Mary..."

This time, Mary brought him to his chest and kissed his head as he let out a sob.

...

The morning after, Francis quietly entered his father's cabinet, hearing his phone conversation. He waited patiently as Henry spoke, his voice tired and shaky.

"...No, Cat. D-Don't come. Just stay where you are, they need you more than we do right now. The children are fine, they're arguing about who gets to see him first and... I know, Cat. I love you too, Catherine. Goodbye."

Henry hung up and placed his phone onto the table.

"Your mother," he stated.

Francis nodded, slightly surprised at the warmth his father used to talk to his mother. It wasn't as if their marriage was wonderful. "Is she safe?"

"She is," Henry said, sitting down and rubbing his face. "It's nothing to do with any of us but Bash or the Comtessa."

"You know what happened?"

Henry turned to his son. "I requested for Bash's team to install cameras and audio devices in every transportation or hotel apartment he rented. I don't know... I-I was paranoid, I had this dream and the next thing I know, I have a call from the King of Sweden himself, telling me that my son's in the hospital. Then Gautier called and confirmed it from Michel."

Francis sat down on the armchair before the desk. "Was it an accident?"

Henry shook his head. "I wish it was."

Francis's heart sank. "Who did it?"

"The camera didn't catch sight of the man. Only the number plate who ran them down," Henry replied. "Gautier is contacting his analysist contact on the force to find out who owns that plate."

"Mary's worried sick. She is refusing to eat breakfast until she knows how Kenna is."

Henry leant back in his seat. "I-I saw her. Bash was in the operating room but she was stable. Critical but stable."

"And?" Francis asked shakily. "No one's saying anything. We need to prepare ourselves, they're being transferred this afternoon."

Henry met his son's eyes. "Herniated disc, knee trauma, broken ribs... She lost a lot of blood. Maximus Elliot said they found Bash unconscious on the road and the Comtessa, the same in the car. Blood was _everywhere_. As she lost a lot of blood, her brain had a lack of oxygen for a while, she was not out of the woods." He took the photographs from the envelope on his desk and handed it to Francis. "They're investigation photos."

Francis felt sick as he studied each picture. "Fuck," he breathed out.

"Indeed. I just wonder how they survived that. That car is... it's a write-off. I paid the rental service your brother used off to buy a new car."

Francis placed the photos down and clenched his fists. "Whoever did this. Make them pay, Dad."

"I will," Henry whispered, tears streaming down his cheeks. "I used to keep him restricted to Avon until he was five. Your brother loved the outside world, always ready for an adventure. Never was one to sit still and wait. He went to the action, he never waited for it to come to him."

"We can't wrap our children in cotton wool or bubble wrap, Dad," Francis told his father. "I know you and Mum were scared after I had meningitis but I could have lived a lot during the years you kept me here."

Henry warily eyed Francis. "You were our only son back then. The male-line rule still in place. Nothing could happen to our sweet cherub." He chuckled softly. "You had the chubbiest cheeks. You waddled a lot and it was funny watching Bash run after you. Whenever he had to leave, you'd climb into the back of the car and refuse to leave your _bubba_. For the longest of time, you were the only one he allowed to call him 'Bash'."

"Because I couldn't pronounce his name," Francis said, laughing a little before he sobered up. "If you didn't see him, that means that... he could die, right?"

"Don't think that," Henry said disparagingly. "This is your brother for God's sake. He had that broken knee when he started riding at eleven and he kept going. Didn't he win all of those golds at FEGA?"

Francis nodded. "I've got to get back to Versailles but you keep me updated on their case."

"I will. And make sure Mary eats. Just tell her that the Comtessa will be fine," Henry told him.

"Okay," Francis replied. "I'll let her know. Thank you."

"Stop by the hospital at three. I will make the announcement at four this evening."

Francis stood from his seat. "He will be alright, right Dad?"

Henry didn't meet his gaze as he muttered, "He has to be."

...

Mary got out of her bed and opened the door, letting her invader of thoughts inside. "What's wrong now, Lissie?" She asked, slightly snippily but Lissie didn't seem fazed. They were all on high alert following the news.

"I didn't go through with it."

Mary froze by the bed and turned to her. "Oh, thank God."

"What?"

"I couldn't bear thinking that I'd helped in getting rid of a baby," Mary whispered. "Especially after what's happened."

Lissie nodded, crossing her arms. "I'll let my parents know. Let them find a suitor and be done with it. We can just put it to premature birth or something."

"Yeah," Mary agreed softly. "You're telling them now?"

"Might as well steal some of Bash's thunder," Lissie said, her eyes red. "I can't believe it..."

Mary's eyes watered and she shrugged. "Neither can I."

"I mean, we weren't as close as we used to be as kids, but he was always there. No matter what, he'd have his door open when we got drunk or whatever and he wouldn't ask questions. Just let us stay over to clear our heads and leave before Mother and Father found out. We barely saw him anyway, but Avon was always open for us."

"No one can dispute the love you all feel for Bash."

"I'm sorry about your cousin."

Mary nodded. "Thank you."

"I also heard you weren't eating," Lissie said, not looking as glamorous as usual. Neither of them was, Mary hadn't even changed out of her pyjamas and it was nearing twelve. "We have to eat. Our babies would starve."

Mary went over to the desk and picked the landline up. "I'll have Mr Jones to bring us food to eat."

"Thank you."

"You won't regret it, you know?" Mary asked, quickly speaking to the chefs before hanging up. "Being a parent is wonderful. I already feel so much love for this baby. It's indescribable."

Lissie took a seat. "I hope you're right," she mumbled, placing a hand on her tummy. It was still flat but she felt something warm and it made her smile despite the pain.

...

Francis hated hospitals. He was in and out of them as a child, it even got to the point when he begged his parents to be treated at Fontainebleau so he didn't have to be disorientated all the time. The hospital was familiar, but he'd never gone through these halls before.

They seemed more _clinical_ if that was possible. More scary, more uncomfortable, more susceptible that death would occur. He felt sick and he paused, leaning his back against the wall as he closed his eyes.

"Do you need a moment alone?" Michel asked, he and the doctor watching him cautiously.

Francis swallowed, shaking his head. "Just give me a minute."

"Oui, Your Highness," Michel said, he and the doctor turning away from him so he could have semi-privacy.

Francis crouched down and covered his face, the coldness of his wedding band on his cheek. He muttered a prayer quietly, bit his lip and removed the bad aura from his mind. Childhood fears were no joke.

Opening his eyes, he stood up and said, "I'm ready."

"What you may see will be shocking," the doctor explained as they continued on. "It is alarming for friends and family to see the patient in a state like this."

"Will he be aware?"

"So far the Duke has not shown signs of consciousness since he left Sweden and arrived in France," the doctor replied honestly. "Scans were performed in Sweden and it showed trauma in the brain. The pressure was relieved in surgery but we nor the doctors in Sweden do not know the severity of the damage and how long he was unconscious for. Taking these factors into consideration, we have concluded that he is comatose for the time being and we cannot possibly say when he will wake up. Comas usually last for less than two to four weeks but it depends on the patient and severity of their injuries. And the low lung capacity he also had was a factor as his respiration levels were low. In layman's terms, he suffered from a pneumothorax caused by a punctured lung resulted from a broken rib."

Francis slowly nodded, acting as if he understood all that was being said. "And that contributed to the brain damage?"

"Pneumothorax is a risk factor for brain injury because reduced oxygen saturation of the blood results in reduced oxygen transit to the brain."

Francis cursed. "Right, I understand. Thank you, Doctor Dupain. Do you know about the Comtessa's current state?"

Doctor Dupain shook his head. "I am not her doctor but her family are with her."

"Alright. Merci," Francis replied when they reached Bash's hospital room.

"I will wait outside, Your Highness," Michel said to him.

Francis gave him a grateful smile before entering the room, his smile leaving his face as he closed the door behind him. He walked closer to the bed, his eyes inspecting everything.

An arm suspended in a sling, bare chest wrapped in bandage dressing, his head also wrapped in bandage dressing, cuts on his brother's face and an oxygen tube connected to his mouth.

Francis froze.

...

_Thirteen Years Ago_

Francis opened the door and walked in as if he owned the place. He was small for his age but nobody was going to stop him, not when he saw his older brother laugh at him for walking such a particular way.

"What do you want, Francis?"

"Papa said you broke your leg."

"My knee, Francis," Bash corrected him, rolling his eyes. "You're not allowed at Avon."

Francis grinned. "I cried and cried until Mama got annoyed and let me come," he replied, jumping onto the bed which made Bash wince. "Désolé!"

"C'est bien," Bash muttered, making sure his leg was stabilised.

"Why aren't you at the hospital?" Francis asked, tilting his head.

Bash scowled. "The doctors kept prodding me. I didn't want to stay there anymore."

"So they allowed you to come home?"

"Yeah."

"I'm not allowed to come home when I go to the hospital," Francis said sadly. "I'm always sick."

Bash turned to him. "If you're sick all the time now, you'll be very healthy in the future. Don't worry about it."

Francis smiled. "I won't."

"Because I said so?"

"Because you never lie," Francis replied easily.

Bash laughed, his green eyes leaving his brother's blues. "How long have you got?"

"Ten minutes," Francis said with a sigh. "I wish it was longer, we barely ever see each other."

"I'm busy, Francis," Bash lied, not wanting to cause tension between Francis, their father and the Queen. "I have school, I have FEGA and my football. I also have my private studies, I'm learning Russian."

Francis gasped. "Russian?!"

"Yes," Bash said, nodding excitedly. "Maybe one day when I join the Army, I will be stationed in Russia. It snows there."

"I wish I could join the Army..."

"You really don't," Bash said. "Look at you, you wouldn't last."

"Hey!"

"I mean," Bash said, thinking about it. "You're going to be _king_. Ruling a country is far more important than being in the Army. You get to order people about and send them to the dungeons!"

Francis giggled. "Can I send Lissie to the dungeons?"

"If you want," Bash replied with a smirk. "She's annoying."

"Claude called her a _female dog_!"

Bash feigned a gasp. "She did not!"

"Lissie pulled her hair and they both got in trouble and sent to their rooms. It was funny," Francis said, his eyes sparkling mischievously.

A knock on the door and a voice saying that Francis had two minutes left distracted them. Francis sighed and moved further up the bed to snuggle into Bash's side.

"What if I don't want to be king?"

Bash kissed his head. "You can be anything you want."

"What about you?"

Bash smirked. "I have a few ideas."

Francis sighed wistfully. "Bubba?"

"Hmm?"

"Do you think Mary is thinking about me?"

Bash grinned. "I think Mary can't stop thinking about you. She's pretty, isn't she?"

Francis nodded, blushing. "She said she liked me."

"Well, aren't you lucky you're marrying her?"

"What if things change after we get married? What if she stops liking me because I'm boring or something?"

Bash nudged Francis's shoulder and smiled. "Francis, you're more interesting than our whole family put together. I doubt Mary will find you boring when you marry her. Don't forget, you gave her that pin and if I remember correctly when she last came, she was wearing it."

"Yeah," Francis drawled out, beaming. "She's wonderful."

"I'm glad she is."

"You're pretty cool too. I told everyone that you were doing horseriding. They're jealous."

Bash chuckled. "Francis, we don't need people being envious of us. We have to be modest, give things back and don't take things for granted. We've been gifted with the way we're living, we don't need to rub it in people's faces. Not whilst some starve and don't have homes."

"You're right," Francis mumbled. "Maybe you'll be my Monsieur Narcisse."

Bash scoffed lightly, shaking his head. "Oh, no, petit frère. I have bigger dreams than that. Now, shoo."

Francis got hugged him tightly and Bash smiled when the blonde added a kiss on his forehead for good measure. "I love you, Bubba."

"Get out of here, before your mother loses her head," Bash said, nudging Francis's cheek with the back of his finger. "I love you too, Ranci."

"I hate that name."

"I hate _Bash_ but here we are," Bash replied teasingly.

"It's not my fault your name is too darn long..." Francis muttered as he slid down the bed. "And compliqué. At least it's not _Bastian_. You hate that."

Bash gagged. "Even worse. If people would just stick to my given name, I would be satisfied but you've damned me to eternity with a nickname that I hate."

Francis grinned proudly. "You're welcome. Ciao!"

Bash threw a pillow at him and Francis squealed, ducking out the way as he made his way to the door, walking like as if he was a macho man.

"Missed me!"

"Did I?" Bash asked, whistling.

Francis gasped and yelped when Bash's dog, Kora, leapt at him, attacking his face with consistent licks. "Oh, no...!" Francis cried out. "Mama's going to kill me when she sees all the dog hair!"

"Good luck with that, Ranci," Bash replied. "Now, Kora, kick him out!"

...

_Present Day_

Kora died a few months later to dog cancer. She was a Shiba Inu and Francis was no stranger to the beautiful, golden dog. He did get told off when he returned home but it was worth it, putting a smile on his brother's face to keep his mind off his broken knee.

Francis ran his fingers through his curls and released a breath of air from his lips before going over to Bash's side and taking a seat on his right.

Tentatively, Francis placed his hand on Bash's and smiled a little. "Hey, Bubba." He snorted. "I've not called you that in a _long_ time, right?"

He didn't know what he was expecting. Something to happen? For Bash to move and respond? Nothing happened though and Francis sighed, squeezing Bash's hand to get a response.

"I knew you were a deep sleeper but this is taking it to another level," Francis said lightly, his voice breaking. "Whoever did this will get what's coming to them. Karma's a bitch."

No reply.

Francis sighed and rested his forehead on the side of the bed, closing his eyes. He barely slept a wink. Not with Bash's condition being unknown and Mary's fainting. It was due to shock, the in-chateau doctor assured him. The baby was perfectly fine, Mary was healthy but hearing the news sent her body into shock and the reasonable thing it had to do was shut down, like a computer in overdrive.

There was a knock on the door before it opened and Lissie and Margo entered. They both took a seat on the other side and turned to Bash, disbelief and worry in their eyes.

Francis raised his head and looked at them. "He looks bad, I know."

"He'll pull through," Margo said shakily. "He's fine."

Lissie slowly nodded, not quite believing that. "Mary's eating. Mr Jones had us all eating."

"That's good," Francis replied as his own stomach grumbled.

"Go and get something to eat," Lissie said, not bothering to turn to him as she spoke. She heard it all right.

"No, I'm not leaving him-"

"Ranci."

Francis froze. "Don't call me that," he said, strained. It wasn't right, coming from her lips or anyone else's. Anyone's but his Bubba's.

Lissie scoffed, rolling her eyes. "You and him, it was always you and him. Your little inside jokes, his protectiveness over you. You could say 'jump' and he'd ask 'how high'?"

Francis shrugged. "Why did you stop loving him?"

"I never stopped," Lissie whispered. "I just didn't want to cause tension in an already unstable home. We all _know_ who Dad loves and it's not our mother."

Margo clicked her tongue. "Let's not do this. Argue."

Lissie's eyes watered and she sighed. "I'm pregnant."

Margo gasped as Francis stared at her in shock.

"It was unexpected," she continued on. "I'm going to tell Mama and Papa. The sooner the better."

Francis sighed, shaking his head. "Why were you not careful?"

"I was," Lissie said. "I don't want to get into it."

"Who else knows?"

Lissie cringed. "Fabian. Mary. You two."

"That's why Mary asked me if you could stay," Francis whispered. "We'll discuss this later. I only want to focus on one ailing sibling at a time."

Margo stood up and paced the room. "Who would do this?"

"I don't know-"

"He doesn't have any enemies!" Margo cried out, flinging her arms. "He kept to himself, caused nobody any trouble. What the fuck?"

Francis smiled a little. "You never swear."

"Think I'm just a polite, little princess, hmm?" The brunette snapped.

Francis turned to her, his eyes warm. "Honestly, you couldn't hate someone if your life depended on it."

"Well," Margo said, crossing her arms. "I do hate someone. The person who did this." She gestured to Bash.

"Yet, you and Bash will be the first to forgive and forget."

Margo bit her lip and nodded shakily. "The world's better when it's not full of hate."

"You were always the better one, out of us girls," Lissie said quietly. "Should we pray?"

"When have we ever been so religious?" Margo asked lightly.

Lissie shrugged. "I hate pretending I believe in God but seeing this..." She placed a hand on Bash's casted arm. "I would believe if it meant he woke up."

Francis closed his eyes. "Our Father, who art in Heaven..." He began, his sisters closing their eyes.

...

"Drink?" Henry offered, watching as Diane warily eyed the decanter and glass.

Diane shook her head. "No."

"Why did you come here? Why not go straight to the hospital?" He asked, taking a seat on the armchair beside hers.

"I wasn't ready," she whispered. "I saw the photos of the..." She bowed her head. "How could they survive that? What am I going to see exactly? Will he ever be the same?"

Henry nodded. "I have the same questions."

"Who did it?"

"We'll have to wait until the number plate comes up with a match. And we'll ask them when they wake up."

Diane rubbed her forearms. "I spent two decades trying to protect him. All for what?"

"We can't blame ourselves," Henry told her. "Even Francis said we couldn't cotton wool them up."

Diane smiled. "Advice from a twenty-year-old?"

"Who is already showing signs of a good father," Henry replied with a sad smile. "Bash never wanted to be king, I saw that."

Diane nodded, shrugging a little. "I spent a long time resenting your children. But I couldn't deny how much love they had for _my_ child. They didn't see the half-blood they shared, all they saw was _him_."

"If Francis was king as a boy, they would have been inseparable even more."

Diane laughed. "I knew every single time Francis came around to Avon. He'd demand Rita show him to Bash. Even when Bash wasn't there, he'd wait. His big Bubba."

"Diane-"

"We made him," Diane whispered, heartbroken. "Out of our love, no matter how shortlived. He was loved, _he is_ loved."

"I try to keep a distance but I can't," Henry replied. "Catherine can't stop me from loving my son. I try to hate him, I try to push him away but my mind switches and I just want the baby I held in my arms before I let him go."

Diane smiled wryly. "He's a man, Henry."

"So, I can't change the past," Henry said, nodding. "He hates me."

"No. He never did," Diane said. "He's grateful. But sometimes you do annoy the shit out of us both. He gets his patience from my side, thankfully."

She got up, collecting her purse and she headed to the door. She closed her eyes and leant her head against the wood, taking a few moments to herself before she collected herself.

"I'm ready to see him."

"Wait," Henry said, getting up and walking over to her. "I-I'm making an announcement. I want you there as his mother."

"You're not my king," Diane whispered, turning to face him. "You never were."

Just as she was about to open the door, Henry pulled her back, spun her and kissed her.

...

Greer shifted on her seat, flicking aimlessly through the magazine. Nothing was going in, she just needed to give her hands something to do as Lola worked on a scarf of some kind. She used knitting as an outlet, seldom being called 'old' by her friends. Now, Greer didn't bother teasing her.

Mary entered the hospital room, handing them the tray of hot drinks before settling on the seat by Kenna's bed. "Where are her family?"

"We suggested that they go to Versailles to rest," Greer said. "They looked worn out. I told them we'd call if anything changes."

Mary nodded and sniffled, wiping her dried tears. "Uh, has the-the announcement began?"

Lola shook her head. "Ten minutes to."

"Alright," Mary said. "I doubt they'd go into detail but they obviously have to announce that an investigation is being performed."

"Do you know anything?" Greer asked her.

Mary shrugged, tutting. "Only that Bash requested for more security on New Year's Eve. I don't know if that's linked to this but... I was told that strange or bad shit happens to this family and if they're being targeted, my baby and I could be too."

"You're overreacting, Mary," Lola said gently. "Calm down."

"Don't tell me to calm down," Mary cried out, rubbing her face in distress. "No one is telling us anything! I-I heard that they weren't even doing thirty miles per hour, how the fuck does that cause wreckage that big, it literally kills people?!"

Greer started to shake and she shrugged. "I-I don't know."

Lola placed a hand on Greer's knee and looked over at Mary. "I know you're worried-"

"Worried is the last thing I am," Mary said, her voice breaking. "I should have stopped her from going."

"You can't blame yourself-"

"I was worried and I didn't act on it and look!" Mary pointed at Kenna. "Look!"

Lola nodded. "I know. We could ask Michel, he'll tell us anything we want to know."

"I don't think he knows anything."

"But we could press him for answers," Greer said, wiping her tears. "Come on, Lola. Let's go and ask him, he's waiting outside Bash's room."

The women left and Marie entered straight after, coming over to bring her daughter into a hug.

"She'll be alright."

"Even if she wakes up, she'll probably never walk again," Mary croaked out.

Marie sighed. "At least they were able to save her leg and reinsert her slipped disc. She'll just have to go through physiotherapy and she'll be back to the Kenna we all know and adore. She's strong, she won't give up."

"Maman?"

"Hmm?"

"Just hold me, please."

"Always."

...

Diane fixed her hair and slipped her coat on, collecting her bag as Henry fixed the buttons on his shirt and tucked it in. She swallowed deeply, sighing heavily as she began to laugh scornfully.

"Don't speak a word of this," she said to him. "I'm with someone else."

Henry's face fell. "Of course," he said. "You don't even have to ask. I mean, I'm married."

Diane scoffed. "That's one way of putting it." She walked to the door and paused. "Don't follow me. In fact, do the announcement yourself. I'm going to the hospital for _my_ son."

After she left, Henry nursed a glass of Scotch. He rolled his eyes when there was a knock on the door and Narcisse entered with the four people who were the high rankers on Bash's security team.

"You sent for them?" Narcisse asked, quickly bowing.

"Oui," Henry mumbled. "Leave us."

Narcisse bowed again and left, closing the door behind him.

Henry sighed, turning to the woman who led them. "Rita Luiz. My son hired you when he was ten. Smart for his age, he could read people. Twenty years in the Spanish Military Service, three years on the police force before you moved to France."

Rita nodded. "Your Majesty-"

"Maximus Elliot," Henry continued. "My son likes you. Not afraid to sneak a drink on the job, hmm?"

Max faltered. "I always limit myself to one drink when we're stationed at the clubs and bars he's in. He's very convincing, but I don't make it a habit."

"German," Henry continued. "My son met you when you were working as a police detective in Mallorca."

"Ja, Monsieur," Max whispered.

Henry clicked his tongue. "You impressed him _and_ me."

"Ja-"

"Miranda Lake," Henry continued on. "English origin, former police detective, Elliot's partner in many ways."

"H-How-"

"We do background checks, Lake," Henry told her. "Married, two girls."

Lake and Maximus nodded.

"How lovely. And you both decided to work for my son, knowing the risks he could bring to your lives, to your children's lives?"

Miranda smiled. "Your son is like family. The ten years we've served him have made a bond so strong, we'd die for him. Even with our precious little girls."

"He's like a brother to us," Max added. "He treats us with respect and in turn, we're grateful for what he does for us."

Henry slowly nodded, his eyes landing on the last woman. "Ashley Law, English with West African origins. Fifteen years on the Met police."

"That's right, Your Majesty."

"Three women and one man capable of protecting one prince _fail_. Years and years of training, of experience and this," Henry began, slamming the photographs onto the desk. "Happens."

"With all due respect," Max began. "His Highness diverted our attention into finding who was stalking them."

"And that person found them and put them in hospital," Henry snapped.

Max bowed his head. "I see how that looks-"

"Are you working for this man?"

"What? No-"

"Perhaps you're working from the inside-"

"This man was targetting the Comtessa, Your Majesty!" Rita cried out. "Since Christmas."

Ashley nodded, handing him a manila envelope. "Evidence of threats and warnings and photographs to her, of her."

Henry carefully inspected each image and his heart sank. "I know who did this."

"Who?"

"You all wouldn't have the clearance for this case but years ago, one of my nephews was arrested multiple times for stalking, GBH and other horrible, horrible things," Henry muttered, looking at all the photographs. "He made three attempts on his former wife's life. He's obsessed with women, all types, all classes. I won't be surprised if he's killed some for rejecting him."

Lake took a step closer to the desk. "Your Majesty, tell us who it is and we'll put things right."

Henry shook his head. "A rejeté l'affaire."

"D-Dismissed from the case?" Rita asked, breathless.

"Two weeks, no pay," Henry said. "You return afterwards, train for a week and return to your post. Use these weeks off wisely."

"And what about the man who did this?" Max asked him.

Henry looked up at him. "Gautier and his people are on it." His gaze went back down. "As for the rest of your team, a week intensive training on a rotational basis as none of my son's properties are to be unguarded. I will have Gautier increase security at the hospital."

"Yes, Your Majesty," they said before bowing and leaving.

Henry cursed, slamming his hands onto the desk. "Mon Dieu..."

...

Mary watched the TV as Henry spoke about how it was a difficult day for France. He explained that during the Duke of Orléans's winter holiday in Sweden with his new wife, the Duchess of Orléans and Countess of Barton, they were involved in a car accident that left them both in critical condition. Mary studied Henry's face, saw how much older he looked as he uttered Narcisse's speech at the live news station, 'The FBC'. He didn't elaborate on the causation of the accident, just merely that an investigation was being carried out with members of the French police force travelling to Sweden to aid and get answers to report back to France. He then said that the King of Sweden and his family were sending their well wishes and prayers to France in their sad times and that they will not stop until they find out the events that happened.

The screen then cut to the King of Sweden speaking about the accident, apologising to the French Royal Family and sending his love and support to his beloved friend and distant relative, King Henry. He also stated that the French people were welcome to Sweden any time and they shouldn't be worried about incidents as these occurring where French people are targetted. He stressed that this wasn't a terrorist attack and calmed everyone that it was a solo act, an unfortunate one.

Mary sighed, ignoring the media coverage and turned to Kenna who seemed more like she was asleep rather than unconscious. She checked the time, it was past four, almost five. The media coverage was understandably delayed, the King in obvious distress at his son's condition.

Mary studied Kenna. She thought about all the times either one of them were in the hospital and refused to let the ailing one suffer by spending hours on end cheering them up. It was harder when Aylee died and Kenna seemed to avoid hospitals for a while but then Mary suffered from appendicitis a few weeks after Aylee's funeral and they were back into their routine of caring for one another.

Every hospital visit Mary had was documented by teddy bears, not only reports and signed forms. Teddies that had 'Mare-Bear' imprinted on them from Kenna. She had fifteen or so of those at home as every flu or cold or small fracture and broken bone, Marie had taken her daughter to the hospital to be treated for them. It was obsessive, but Mary knew her mother never wanted to lose her.

Kenna's visits were low key, sometimes for alcohol poisoning or other party things. Never drugs, Mary reminded herself. At one point, Kenna had a tattoo of the Cross done behind her ear following an ear infection. Her visits were marked by discreet tattoos and shopping sprees.

Mary got up and pressed a quick kiss on Kenna's forehead before leaving the room. She had been alone, her mother coercing Kenna's family to turn in for the day as they kept pretty late or early in the money and had barely looked after themselves since then. At least she was showing signs of waking up, of recovery.

"Dauphine."

Mary looked up and saw Louis, confusion in her eyes. "Comte, why are you here?"

Louis was holding a bunch of flowers. "My, uh, sister-in-law is here."

Mary narrowed her eyes. Antoine's ex-wife? "Right."

"Yes," he said. "Marcus and she were at home, painting the spare bedroom for their new arrival. She fell off the ladder and sprained her ankle and my brother was worried about her and the baby so..."

"I hope she and the baby are fine," Mary said softly.

"I hope you and yours are too," Louis replied before gesturing to the window of Kenna's room. "How's the Comtessa?"

Mary placed a smile on her face. A fake one. "She's going to be fine. Francis is with his brother right now and we're relieved."

"That's great!" Louis beamed. "Honestly, I was worried. Bash and I may have never seen eye-to-eye but I respect the man."

Mary crossed her arms. "You should get going. I don't want to miss Kenna waking up."

It was a lie, the doctor said he didn't know whether it would take a few hours or a few days for Kenna to wake up, but Mary was praying no matter what.

"Of course," Louis replied, holding up the flowers. "Corrine needs her flowers."

Mary chuckled wryly and mumbled a farewell as he left down the hall. She returned to the room just as Louis stopped and turned, retrieving his mobile phone from his pocket.

He dialled a number and took a shaky breath, waiting for the person to pick up. When they did, he hissed down the line, "You're so fucking lucky that they're going to be alright. What the fuck was going through your mind?"

Antoine scoffed. _"She chose a man who dumped her at the altar over a man who showed her interest despite her whorish ways... Get off my phone, little brother."_

"Where are you?"

_"Nowhere."_

The call was hung up and Louis cursed, throwing the flowers into a nearby bin before leaving.

Inside Kenna's room, Mary returned to her seat and continued to watch the news. Henry was now inside, expected to be travelling to the hospital any minute now and people waiting outside reported that the Archduchess of Avon had arrived. A live feed showed Diane stepping out of her chauffered Mercedes with giant sunglasses covering her eyes and a deep green fur hat and matching scarf. She elegantly positioned her handbag in front of her stomach and politely waved at the reporters and their cameras before being led into the hospital by some of the security guards.

"B-Bash?"

Mary froze, her eyes widening as she slowly turned to Kenna whose eyes were closed but her body was moving in distress.

"Kenna? Kenna, can you hear me?" She asked, standing up to get a better view of her cousin's face. "Try and not move so much, you have pins in your leg."

Kenna gasped, her eyes snapping open as she looked around in confusion, her chest rising up and down quickly. "Wh-Where am I?"

"Hospital, Kenna," Mary whispered, cupping her cheeks so Kenna's flushed face was fixed on her. "Look at me. You're safe. Calm down, I'm here."

Kenna's eyes were wide but she nodded and swallowed deeply before relaxing and leaning back on the bed. "Where's Bash?"

"He's with Francis, Kens," Mary said carefully. "What do you remember?"

Kenna paused before saying, "We were driving and the next thing I know, I'm screaming and it all goes silent. Oh my God, Mare..." Kenna breathed out before breaking into sobs.

Mary kissed her head, brushing Kenna's sweat-matted hair away from her eyes. "Alright, that's good, you did well. Just rest now, I'll fetch a doctor."

She didn't leave, opting to press the red emergency button instead. She returned to Kenna's side and continued to stroke her hair back, Kenna in slight shock and disbelief about what was going on. Mary made sure to not let her look down but always trained in her direction.

"You're going to be okay, I promise, Kens."


	16. Smart Decisions Make Wise Kings

****Quote of the chapter: "When I despair, I remember that all through history the way of truth and love have always won. There have been tyrants and murderers, and for a time, they can seem invincible, but in the end, they always fall. Think of it-always." ― Mahatma Gandhi.****

* * *

Kenna turned to Mary once the police left. Mary was fast asleep, bags under her eyes as she was curled up on the uncomfortable chair. It was past nine now and Mary showed no signs of leaving.

Just before she closed her eyes to fall asleep herself, the door opened and Francis entered, his eyes meeting hers. They froze, the door open as Francis's hand stilled on the handle and Kenna's throat suddenly becoming dry.

"I'm just here for Mary," he whispered. "Glad you see you're awake."

Kenna swallowed deeply. "No one's telling me about Bash. I'm starting to think he's fine and out there, finding out who did this because honestly, I wouldn't have got through this if he didn't save my life."

Francis bit his lip and avoided her gaze. "No, Kenna."

"What?" She asked, her heart leaping.

Francis sighed, bowing his head. "Uh, he-he had a bleed. On his brain. He wouldn't have shown any symptoms but well..."

Kenna started to laugh. "You're lying," she said, trying to shift but her leg was held in place by an immobiliser. "He woke me up in the car and h-he tied my scarf around my leg, we talked about children and-and he promised he wouldn't leave me but he had to get help." She then frowned in realisation. "He didn't come back."

"Kenna-"

"Everything was so peaceful. The birdsong, the serenity... Then it became dark and I woke up and I saw Mary," Kenna said quietly.

Francis entered the room and closed the door behind him. "Why were you together?"

Kenna gave him a look, her eyes casting down to her left hand but her rings were obviously gone. "We got married again. He said that he was stupid and that he wanted to be with me after all. We had a great day, stopped by our new home in Sweden. It's got seven bedrooms and nine bathrooms... Perfect..." She took a shaky breath. "How bad is he?"

"Unresponsive."

"Is there a chance of recovery? Brain damage or whatever?"

Francis frowned a little. "How do you know-"

"The right questions to ask? My eldest brother is a doctor. I used to do my homework when he was studying," Kenna said. "Brain trauma, he read that a few times over for his exam."

"Well, we'll just have to wait and see." He went over to Mary and gently shook her awake. "Let's go home, my love."

"Ken-"

"I'm fine," Kenna cut her off with a smile. "Go home. Look after Baby."

Mary rubbed her bump and nodded, accepting help from Francis as he used his other hand to collect her things. "You'll call me if anything happens, right?" She asked.

"If I pass out, I'll try and call you," Kenna said lightly.

Mary tutted, stretching. "Jesus, that chair isn't bloody half comfortable."

"No, it isn't, lass," Kenna replied, laughing a little. "Go on, sleep in a proper bed and let that baby get a good night's rest."

Mary gave her a soft smile and pressed a kiss on Kenna's head before leaving. She noted that Francis wasn't behind her and she turned to see him give Kenna a brief hug and an assuring message that Bash will be fine.

Mary smiled and turned to find Fabian waiting for them. "Are we going to Fontainebleau?"

"Versailles is closer and the King doesn't want to be disturbed," Fabian explained. "The young princes and princesses are coming to stay at Versailles."

"Understandable," Mary muttered, rubbing her bump. "I'll have Mr Jones settle the children in."

"Very well, Your Highness," Fabian said as Francis left the room and closed the door behind him.

He offered her his hand and she took it, feeling him press a kiss on the back of her hand. They began to follow Fabian outside and just before they reached the doors, Francis handed her a pair of sunglasses.

"Your eyes are-"

"Not queenly?" Mary asked, smiling as she put them on. "These bags under my eyes are the least of my worries... I never asked, how is Bash?"

Francis shook his head. "No change. Claude's there with Michel - she'll leave soon. I heard from Gautier that Father dismissed his security guards. Two weeks, no pay for the senior staff and intense training for the junior guards."

"Damn," Mary muttered. "It's not their fault."

"They should have been there," Francis said, shaking his head. "Anyway, let's go home."

They left the hospital and headed towards the car. Everything seemed like slow motion, the flashing camera lights reflecting off her glasses as she politely smiled and shielded her face from the questions being asked. The native reporters seemed to be respectful, probably because it was one of their own. The foreign news reporters screamed at and demanded answers from them and Mary rolled her eyes, glad for the glasses shielding her unimpressed reaction.

When they got into the car and drove off, she sighed in relief.

"Louis Bourbon was at the hospital," Mary stated.

Francis set his jaw. "Did he say why?"

"His brother's wife, Corrine or something like that fell and she's pregnant so they were concerned," Mary told him. "He had flowers and everything and I couldn't stop thinking why he was at the private wing even though his sister-in-law was a patient because Bash and Kenna's rooms are further away from the rest."

Francis scoffed, shaking his head. "Marcus divorced his wife five years ago. He's got a girlfriend and she is most certainly not pregnant."

Mary gaped. "What?"

"Shit," he muttered.

"What is it?"

"There's something Kenna and Bash not telling us," Francis said. "Otherwise, why would he ask for extra security?"

Mary decided to voice her fears. "I thought the same thing. There's something going on and it's eating me up inside. Perhaps it has something to do with the Bourbons?"

Francis nodded, rubbing her thigh. "We'll know soon enough. Let's just get some rest and rejuvenate to come back tomorrow morning."

...

Madeleine Van Houten, formerly Madeleine Bourbon. She was tall, thin, brunette, light brown-eyed, beautiful. She had just turned thirty in the previous year, the only girl in the family.

She wasn't close with her brothers nor was she surprised to be invited to Fontainebleau and currently sat in front of the King himself. She crossed one leg over the other.

"How is the Duke?" She asked softly.

Henry's blue-green eyes landed on her as he turned away from the window, the sky as dark as his heart right now. "I doubt any of your family members should be asking that considering it was you who..."

Madeleine frowned, her eyebrows creasing. "U-Uncle Henry, I do not understand-"

"How is your brother, Antoine, these days?"

She bowed her head. "Father wrote him out of his will, he doesn't stop by too often. Didn't take it too kindly after we shunned him following his divorce. He's the reason why we can't see my nephew and my father is dying and all he wants is to see his grandson one last time."

"But Jeanne will never allow it," Henry said knowingly. "She is well if you're wondering."

"I'm glad," Madeleine breathed out. "She never answers my calls." She sighed. "Uncle, if Antoine was behind what happened to Cousin Sébastien, then I can assure you that we had no part in that."

"I believe you," Henry told her. "You were unfortunate to be born into such a disastrous family. Surprisingly, you're probably the only woman they've not raped."

Madeleine flinched. "Marcus and that woman came to an agreement. As for Louis... Slander when it comes to him, his soul is too pure for that."

Henry chuckled wryly. "You don't even try and defend Antoine."

"I have seen what he did to all of those women, to _Jeanne_," Madeleine replied. "Now, she looks like a dishwasher ate her and threw her up. That is no life, scared of your husband, being branded and broken..." She held a hand to her mouth and closed her eyes. "I will never defend that monster. But I will help you try and locate him no matter what."

"Thank you, Baroness Van Houten," Henry said, heading to the door to open it as she stood and walked over. "Anything you have, send it to Gautier."

"Oui, Monsieur," Madeleine said before finally leaving.

Henry closed the door and went over to his desk, picking up his phone and calling Fabian.

"Fabian? Emergency family meeting right now. Only my older children."

_"I will retrieve them for the video call right now,"_ Fabian replied. _"The usual channel, Monsieur?"_

"Yes," Henry said. "Retrieve them quickly, I will be waiting."

...

Francis led his sisters to his cabinet where the TV was set up already. They watched as their father paced the room on his side and they took seats, gaining his attention.

"Have you eaten?" Was the first thing he asked.

Francis nodded but his sisters turned to him and shook their heads. "I'll eat before I sleep."

"I will call the kitchens to make sure you do," Henry told him. "Look after yourselves, this is a trying time but we can't fall unwell. We must show a united and strong front, for France and for your brother."

"Yes, Father," Francis mumbled, blushing slightly.

Henry nodded. "Good. Right, you all are old enough to know what is going on right now."

"Did you find out who did this?" Claude asked, eyes wide. "Tell us you did."

"I did."

They sighed in relief.

"Who?" Lissie demanded, standing up and crossing her arms. "Who do we throw in jail to rot forever?"

"Antoine."

Francis furrowed his brows. "But why? Why did he do this? He and Bash have never-"

"Since Christmas, Antoine has been stalking Kenna," Henry told them, lifting up photographs taken of the woman to show them. "Since the wedding. I had Gautier trace her steps to see where and when he encountered her. I have the evidence here, notes of threats and warnings. 'I will kill you's and 'I want your blood drained from your body's..."

"He must have thought she was an easy target since Bash was no longer in the picture," Margo said, cringing at the words the notes said. "But then Bash was back with her, and he got mad and drove them off the road."

Lissie rolled her eyes. "Antoine has always been jealous."

"Why did he stalk her if they've never even spoken to each other?" Claude asked her father.

Henry winced. "Actually, they met on the plane to Sweden. CCTV showed that they left the airport together and stayed at a hotel. She later left a few hours and made her way to a new hotel. I'm guessing they... _slept together_."

"He never did take rejection well," Francis said. "So that's why Bash asked for security measures. To keep Antoine away."

"What happens now? Where is he?" Margo asked.

Henry shook his head. "No one knows. I have his sister on the matter. It seems that he didn't leave Sweden so the police over there are looking for him."

"How does this work? Do we demand him to be extradited?" Lissie asked her father. "Or will the King of Sweden handle it?"

"We never let other people punish those who did us wrong, Elisabeth," Claude told her. "He has to pay. Do we do death sentences that involve actual death?"

Henry raised his eyebrows. "Peine de mort is banned, daughter."

"Can we have an exception?" Francis asked. "He did commit attempted murder of a _prince_. Hell, he even tried to kill a descendant of some Scottish royal if that wasn't enough and stalked her, threatened to kill her."

"I, for one, will agree with the decision," Lissie told their father. "Margo?"

Margo slowly nodded. "I agree."

"Well," Henry said firmly. "It is not up to discussion. Peine de mort is not an option."

"I wish this happened in America so it was an option," Lissie snapped angrily. "The people will see you as _weak_."

"No, they will see a man who abides by the law. I may be king but I will not ruin years of laws and amendments just because some disgruntled family member put my son in the hospital," Henry told his children. "We must go about this politically."

Francis sighed. "He's right."

"Oh, Francis!" His sisters cried out.

"What if he killed Papa?" Margo asked him. "Would you still be saying the same? That would be _regicide_."

Francis turned to his father. "Life sentence. Extra-secure prison somewhere in the middle of the sea or something... Bash wouldn't want him dead."

"You clearly don't know our brother as well as you thought you did," Claude muttered darkly. "Bash would be ordering for him to be shot on sight. Antoine is a threat to society. For years, he's terrorised women and we all know the women who said he raped them were telling the truth. His father can't sweep this story under the carpet! He targeted the King of France's _son_."

"Claude is right," Francis said quietly. "But the death sentence is not an option."

"You're thinking like a king," Henry said proudly. "Good. You have to choose the wiser option, even if both sound as good and reasonable as the other."

Lissie scoffed. "You're ridiculous-"

"Just a few months ago, you didn't even care about Bash!" Francis cried out, standing up. "None of you did, so how dare you tell me that I don't know him? If he heard you all right now, he'd be so disappointed. He's been there for you, show him the same courtesy and respect that we can't always get what we want. That we have to show people that we can forgive, just as the Bible tells us to do. We must set an example, be the hope this country needs. Not bloodthirsty spoilt brats!"

Henry closed his eyes. "You're dismissed. Go to bed, all of you."

Lissie was the first to leave, almost breaking the door as she yanked it open and stormed out. Margo followed after her, sending her father and brother an apologetic glance. Claude was last and she nervously walked up to the screen.

"There's something I need to tell you. It may not be the best time but I need to get it off my chest," she said, eyeing Francis as well.

"Well, spit it out," Henry said, going to his desk to sit down.

Claude released a deep breath before saying, "I'm gay."

Henry shrugged. "And?"

"I'm sorry?"

"What do you want me to do with that information?" Henry asked her.

"I... I don't know," Claude replied breathlessly.

Henry gave her a soft smile. "We knew. We were waiting for you to tell us but... now's not the time for celebrating, sweetheart."

"You're not mad?" Claude asked, her voice breaking.

"Why would I be mad?"

"Because we're... Catholic."

"C'est la vie," Henry said. "We are who we are. You're not the first person to come out in the family."

"No?"

Henry chuckled. "At least not on my side. Your mother's brother or thereabouts, he's married to a man. Well, he was disowned, but we can't pick our family."

Claude grinned. "Thanks, Papa."

"Now, go to bed. I need a moment with your brother."

Just as she was about to leave, she felt Francis take her hand and give it a squeeze. She beamed at him through her tears, feeling all the things he wanted to tell her in that one handhold. He loved her, he accepted her, he would do anything for her.

"Bonne nuit," he whispered.

"Et toi," Claude replied before leaving.

"Father, I still believe we should bring back peine de mort for certain cases," Francis said, turning to the screen.

"Bash is not dead."

"He's not _alive_ either," Francis retorted. "Or how do you refer to a comatose person? I've read up on the condition, it could last years. And even if he wakes up, he'll never be the same again. Or if we're lucky, he'll be alright but things will still change for us all."

Henry sighed, rubbing his face hard. "If he had died or if he dies, then I will consider going to speak to Parliament _myself_ and get the Prime Minister backing peine de mort for Antoine Bourbon. But I have faith, Francis. I have God on my side, telling me that everything will work out accordingly. Justice will be served and my son will be fine."

Francis looked away from the screen, his eyes watering. "I wish I was half as optimistic as you and Bash were. I don't know how you do it."

"It's hard but as I said, keep my faith. I have to go, I want to attend a midnight vigil with Diane," Henry said. "Keep love in your heart, Francis."

"I will, Papa. Bonne nuit."

"Bonne nuit."

The screen went black and Francis sighed when he felt arms wrap around his waist.

"Claude said you'd still be here," Mary whispered.

"Why aren't you sleeping?"

"I had an hour's nap at the hospital," Mary reminded him. "I missed your warmth."

Francis turned in her arms and kissed her hard. "I need you."

Mary nodded and started to undo the buttons on his shirt. "I'm here for you, Francis."

"I'm here for you too, Mary," he replied, cupping her cheeks before kissing her.

She felt her cheeks become wet and she stopped, pulling away to cup his cheeks as his hands fell. She used her thumbs to wipe his cheeks and gave him a watery smile.

"Don't cry, Francis," she told him. "Otherwise I'll cry and our baby will think we're both hot messes."

He laughed, wiping his nose as he leant his forehead against hers. "I feel like I'm alone."

"In what way?"

"In the way that before you were here for good, only Bash could bring my spirits up," Francis said with a sigh. "I mean, it was bad enough being the Dauphin of France but not being able to do something as much as step outside the chateau... We'd go everywhere and anywhere. He flew me to Florida once and had someone pretend to be me by saying I was sick and needed to stay at Avon to reduce contamination or some shit."

Mary laughed. "He sounded convincing!"

"He could lie, but no matter what, he told me the truth always."

"That's what brothers are for," Mary whispered, her eyes tearing up. "I wish James and I had half the relationship you and Bash have. He's my half-brother but we're so many miles apart. Yet, here you and your own half-brother are, kings of your world."

Francis sniffled, bowing his head. "Can we just cuddle and talk tonight?"

Mary nodded. "I'd love nothing more."

...

Come morning, Mary groaned when she felt something on her front _and_ her back on the bed. She looked over her shoulder and saw Francis's youngest brother, Louis tucked into her back, the little boy's chest rising up and down as he slept.

"Oh, yeah," Francis mumbled, his eyes opening. "Louis had nightmares."

"I'll get out-"

"No, I will," Francis said, sliding out of the bed so she could settle down more comfortably.

Mary gave him a thankful smile as he collected a blanket and wrapped it around his bare chest, settling into the sofa. "How about you? I heard you mumbling in your sleep."

Francis ran his fingers through his damp hair and nodded. "I had a nightmare too," he admitted quietly. "It's stupid."

"Tell me," Mary said, turning to LouLou and brushing his hair with her fingers as he continued to sleep.

"Okay," Francis breathed out. "I was in the car with Bash and it went out of control. I woke up when the car launched into the air before landing upside down. My shirt was drenched, I'm half surprised I didn't wake you up with how soaked the bed was. That was when LouLou came in, saying he had a nightmare and another one after the governess settled him back to sleep."

Mary left the bed and made herself comfortable on Francis's lap, wrapping an arm around his neck as she ran her fingers up and down his chest. "You're safe, Francis."

"I know that."

"Bash will be fine."

"I know that too."

"I'm happy you trust me to talk to me about things like that," she told him.

Francis smiled softly. "It feels great having someone to talk to who is not a courtier or Bash. A woman who I can be vulnerable to."

Mary kissed him. "I love you."

"I love you too."

...

Mary ignored the questions. The next day of constant badgering about the Duke and Duchess of Orléans' conditions. She made her way to Kenna's room and sat down, sighing relief.

"Reporters?" Kenna asked, gesturing to the TV with the live footage.

"I can't stand them," Mary muttered bitterly.

Kenna smiled wryly. "They say that Henry's demanded a manhunt for an unrevealed suspect."

"Antoine Bourbon."

"Thought as much," Kenna mumbled. "I slept with him after the wedding. I was upset and he preyed on that because he filled me with alcohol on the plane journey to Sweden. I told him that we were a mistake and I left. Next thing I know, I'm receiving photos of myself, death threats and I'm terrified to leave my hotel rooms. Plural because I jumped from one to another to try and get away but he was relentless and ruthless and-"

"You're safe now," Mary quickly said, seeing her friend becoming distressed. She placed her hand on Kenna's. "Bash is improving. They're letting him remain comatose for now but he's showing signs of brain activity."

Kenna breathed a sigh of relief. "Thank God. I don't know what I would do without him. He's my life."

"He must be if you didn't invite me to the wedding," Mary mumbled.

"Mary-"

"I'm messing with you," Mary quickly said with a smile. "I'm glad you worked things out. He was concerned about you."

Kenna sighed. "Now the tables have turned. Can I see him?"

"Not right now," Mary told her gently. "Just focus on your recovery first."

"How exactly?"

Mary reached into her handbag and retrieved a diary, placing it in Kenna's hands. "Miranda had your belongings. I don't know, I got curious and looked through it. What's this for?"

Kenna gave her a sad smile. "I think you know what it's for."

"I thought you stopped-"

"I did," Kenna quickly said. "But I was just skipping meals. That helped me."

Mary nodded slowly and crossed one leg over the other. "Does Bash know?"

"I didn't even know you knew," Kenna whispered.

"I didn't want to press you too hard," Mary said carefully. "Then you got better and then September happened then December..."

Kenna looked down at the diary. "Bash knows. He was supportive and understanding. He wanted to help. That's why he found me because he thought I'd do something stupid but I was just trying to get better in peace."

"You're going to be just fine, Kenna. Everything will be fine," Mary told her firmly. "Let's talk about something else."

Kenna nodded, smiling a little. "Please."

"So, Louis has nightmares," Mary announced.

"Oh."

"Yeah, he didn't take the news too well. Bash got him his first horse," Mary replied. "He snuck into our bed and Francis and I didn't complain. They're all upset." Her lips wavered. "Emone thinks that Antoine will come for her so she barricaded her and Hattie in their bedroom and refused to leave."

Kenna covered her face. "It's all my fault-"

"No-"

"If I had told Bash to stay away... If I had rejected Antoine... None of this would have happened."

"Well, you would have still been hurt if you rejected Antoine," Mary told her. "Bash in the picture or not. But I guess everyone would be less in mourning and more happier."

Kenna clicked her tongue. "So, I'm going to try physiotherapy soon. I just need to get out of this bed."

"That's good," Mary drawled out. "I'm just relieved that most of the blood came from superficial wounds and there's not going to be lasting damage. I know how much you like to run. Away mostly but..."

"Now, now, Mary dear," Kenna began lightly. "Let's not tease the bedridden girl."

Mary laughed. "I'm going to go. Lola and Greer are taking me to some film premiere to get our minds off this... I'll be back tonight."

"No," Kenna mumbled. "Stay home. I'm fine. My family are here and I think they're starting to get annoyed at you being here with me all the time."

Mary chuckled. "Practise for when Mum gets worse."

"Mary!"

"Dark humour is our thing, isn't it?" Mary asked her, getting up. "See you later."

Kenna gave her a smile. "See you."

...

A month later, Mary found herself slow sipping on some sparkling water. She watched as people conversed at the Valentine's themed party Henry and Catherine hosted. They couldn't cancel it this year, they never cancelled it. It was the one party the French nobility and fifteen lucky middle and lower class people could let loose and enjoy the day.

It began at five prompt and ended at ten.

With a sigh, Mary left her position and walked over to where Remy and Lola were. Everyone wore masquerade masks but Mary, Greer and Lola had conveniently gone with navy sequined masks to recognise each other easier.

"...I honestly don't feel like partying," Mary caught the last bit of Remy's sentence before he turned to look at her, bowing his head a little in acknowledgement. "Dauphine."

"Vicomte," she greeted formally.

Everyone was on edge in the family and friends department. Bash still hadn't woken up, Kenna had been flown to Scotland to recover more there and Francis was absent. Even when he was in the same room, his mind was always elsewhere, studying nightly the effects of comas and brain trauma, trying to understand everything the doctors said to the family. It got to the point that Mary had begged Kenna's brother who was a neurosurgeon to come to France to assure Francis.

Nothing worked.

"You look tired," Remy told her.

Mary scoffed lightly. "How can you tell, I have a bloody mask covering my face."

"Everyone who is close to the family looks like shit," Remy stated. "I'm surprised Catherine's playing her role perfectly. The bereft stepmother."

"At least she requested Italy's military aid in looking for Antoine," Lola said. "That was kind of her and her family."

"She is just doing this for the publicity," Leith said, joining their conversation with Greer. "She'd use any opportunity-"

"Leith," Greer said warningly. "Not now."

Mary rolled her eyes. "I don't know why they didn't cancel today."

"It's a 'pay to enter' event," Leith told them. "It's hosted every year and all proceeds go to charity or to the Church's missionary fund. This year, proceeds go to charities revolving brain shit and physiotherapy."

"That's... thoughtful," Mary said, strained. She sipped her drink, spotting Francis speaking to Lissie. Their conversation was tense and Mary knew what it was about.

Her eyes landed on Lissie's ex-boyfriend and she sighed. Elisabeth still kept her secret and each day it was taking a toll on Francis, Mary and Margo on keeping it. Fabian was fine, he was used to keeping things to the grave.

"Excuse me," Mary muttered, heading to the two blondes. "You both need to calm down. you're making a damn scene."

"I couldn't care less," Lissie snapped. "Why isn't this charade of a ball party cancelled?"

"I was thinking the same thing."

"And look at my parents, acting as if they're so in love and that Bash isn't in a coma," Lissie continued, the three of them watching Henry and Catherine waltz on the dancefloor as if there was nothing plaguing their minds. "Despicable."

Francis pinched the bridge of his nose before placing his hands on his hips impatiently. "I can't be here. I need to go and find that neurosurgeon-"

"Francis," Mary called him softly but he wasn't having none of it.

"He's the best. He's from Sweden but he works in England his opinion could make or break Bash's recovery," Francis continued. "If I could just get him to reply to my email otherwise I'll fly out tonight and get him myself."

Lissie scoffed. "Francis, get a hold of yourself."

Francis glared at her. "I am turning twenty-one in five days and he's still not awake. He's never missed my birthday. Louis was upset that he wasn't there for his ninth earlier this month. I won't let Louis suffer from another nightmare."

"And yours?" Lissie asked him tauntingly. "How are yours going?"

"Elisabeth-" Francis snapped before Mary placed a hand on his chest.

"Both of you, take a walk," Mary said calmly. "Return, grab a drink. Alcoholic or not, I don't care just stop making a scene." She planted a fake smile on her face and kissed Francis. "I need to find Margaret and see how she's doing. I will check on you both after."

Mary left them and searched the room, finding Margo on the dancefloor with the Duke of Basse-Navarre. She seemed happy and Mary smiled, about to disturb them but she was led away by Charles and Henri who took her outside.

"Can you give us an excuse to leave?" Charles asked her, leaning against the wall. "And no, homework won't be enough."

Mary smiled wryly, ruffling Henri's hair. "I will tell your parents I sent you on a mission."

"What kind of mission?" Henri asked curiously.

"To find something for my heartburn," she replied. "I'll say you offered graciously. Find Mr Jones and tell him I sent you to follow him and get a breather. He won't say anything to your parents, he works for me."

"He's cool," Henri agreed. "Thanks, Mary."

"You're welcome."

Watching them walk away, Mary felt a presence behind her and she turned to face the other Louis in her life. Sort of.

"You're everywhere I turn," she told him, sipping her drink.

"I heard that Bash still hasn't left the hospital."

"Where's Antoine, Louis?"

"W-What?"

Mary rolled her eyes. "I thought we were friends, _family_. So tell me, where is your brother?"

"I don't know," Louis said. "My sister asked the same thing a while back. She's never asked before."

"We just have a few enquiries," Mary explained. "He and Kenna were speaking after the wedding-"

"So, you think my brother did this?" Louis asked, scoffing.

Mary raised her eyebrows. "Isn't he the one who's raped and killed women?"

"My brother never killed any-"

"So, you admit that he raped women?"

"Dauphine-"

"Your brother," she began, swallowing deeply. She was going to say that they all knew he did it but she didn't want to help him, she didn't want to lose them their upper hand. "Has had a history for stalking, GBH, domestic violence and the list goes on. Can you see where my fear stems from when we see video evidence of him and Kenna talking?"

Louis sighed. "I wish I knew, I really do. I didn't know that my cousin's wellbeing hadn't improved. I would have pressed for information, found him myself."

"Louis?"

Louis froze and he turned to face a redhaired woman making her way to them. "Beth."

Beth linked her arm with his and gave Mary a bright smile. "Duchess de Anjou, God it's been so long since I last saw you."

"I'm sorry, who-"

"Come on, Cousin! Surely you know who I am?" Beth asked Mary, making the princess even more confused. "We share a bloody grandparent, Mary... It's Liza!"

Mary gasped, her eyes widening in recognition before she hugged the woman tightly. "Elizabeth?!"

"I know, I know," Beth said, chuckling. "We haven't seen each other since you were four and I was eight. I dropped 'Liza'. I go by 'Beth'."

Mary stood back to look at her paternal cousin in shock. "God, I can't believe it's you!"

"Me neither!" Beth giggled. "I missed you, Mary. Christ, how time has flown by... I heard about Mckenna. Shame." She rolled her eyes.

"Don't act too happy about it," Mary snapped tightly.

Beth raised an eyebrow. "It's not me who cut someone's hair off just for brushing a Barbie doll's hair incorrectly. She was a bitch then and she still is."

Mary clicked her tongue, ignoring the childhood petty family dispute. "Why are you here?"

"Louis and I..." Beth began, showing Mary her ring finger. "Are getting married!"

"No...!" Mary breathed out in shock.

"I know!" Beth cried out happily. "At least we're not blood relations. We're just related through you." She bopped Mary's nose and kissed Louis's. "We'll be family twice over, your paternal side linking with your maternal."

Mary scoffed a little in disbelief. As if their family couldn't be crazier. "I need a drink. A soft one, but a drink nonetheless. if you'll pardon me," she mumbled, leaving them. "What the fuck?"


	17. A Birthday To Remember For Life

**Warning, I finished this late as fuck because I was too busy binge-watching Netflix before university haha. So, there may be mistakes, missed stuff but I'll re-read through it soon.**

**Oh shit, we've got drama.**

****Quote of the chapter: "May the forces of evil become confused on the way to your house." ― George Carlin.****

* * *

On his birthday, the 19th of February, Francis received a box. Well, _he_ didn't receive it, Bash's Avon home did and the security guards figured that it was a pre-ordered gift.

But they were wrong.

Francis opened it and set his jaw when he saw a black and white image of Bash in hospital. He began to shake, launching the box it came in at the wall, just in time for Mary to flinch and duck as she entered his cabinet.

"Francis?" She asked, eyes wide.

Francis cursed, coming over to cup her cheeks and kiss her. "I'm sorry. That wasn't aimed at you."

"I get that you're upset but-"

"It's not that. Well, it _is_," Francis said, heading back to the picture and showing it to her. "He's been in his room."

Mary's body ran cold and she studied the picture for herself. "H-How?"

Francis shrugged. "I don't know!" He cried out, running his hands through his hair. "Just when I was going to relax and not think about anything but us today..."

"Where did you get this?"

"Avon. The security guards believed Bash pre-ordered something for me so had it sent straight here," Francis explained. "Don't let my dad know about that part. They're in enough shit as it is and they've got kids to think about. Losing their jobs is not an option."

Mary nodded slowly. "I won't tell him. How will we tell him we found it?"

"We could just say that it was left in Bash's room," Francis said. "I'm going there now."

"Francis, please-"

"Mary, I have to see if he's okay-"

"Michel's there, Gautier's there, even my uncles are there! He's protected-"

"But someone got _through_," Francis cried out to her. "A nurse, a doctor, someone got through and took this picture!" He covered his mouth as tears sprung to his eyes. "They could have finished the job, Mary. There's one thing about Antoine Bourbon, he never leaves things finished. He keeps going until there's an end and he comes out on top."

Mary sat down, defeated. "Every day, it's the same thing-"

"You would do the same for James, Mary!" Francis told her. "And Kenna, you did for her!"

"But _I_ need you. Your little siblings need you!"

"They've got the girls," he mumbled, covering his face.

"You mean Lissie who is too far up her own arse, acting all high and mighty when she's going to pop a baby out in seven months at twenty? Or Margo who is already wearing black as if he's gone and never coming back? Or even Claude who's out partying every night to drink away the pain? I can't cover for all of you Francis! I didn't sign up to be the Valois family's therapist," Mary snapped.

Francis turned to her. "Alright."

"What do you mean?" Mary asked impatiently. "What's 'alright'? There's nothing _alright_ about this!"

"You're right," Francis whispered. "I have been too fixated in making Bash better, I forgot that I had to comfort you. And our baby... You're five months pregnant with your first child and you're parenting all of us better than our actual parents. I've taken your shoulder to cry on for granted and I apologise. I just never thought I'd be in this position."

Mary stood up and placed a hand on his cheek, forcing him to look her in the eye. "We will all get through this. One step at a time. Today, let's just spend time with the others and then this night... if you really must, you can go and be with Bash. Let him know that you're fine."

Just as Francis was about to kiss her, his phone rang and he was confused to see that it was Diane calling. He quickly answered it.

"What is it? Is Bash al-"

_"I need you to convince your father to turn off my son's life support,"_ Diane whispered.

Francis almost choked, Mary quickly helping him to sit down. "What?"

_"Francis, darling... It's a lost cause-"_

"But he's getting better-"

_"No, Francis. We just heard what we wanted to hear,"_ Diane said, strained. _"It's been over four weeks, it's time to let him go."_

Francis looked over at Mary in disbelief. "Diane, look, not today. Not now, not ever."

_"Don't hang up,"_ Diane quickly said._ "Just think about it."_

"Are you going to even bother telling Kenna?" He demanded. "Or will you let her find out that her husband's life support was turned off on the TV?"

Diane sighed. _"I did call her."_

"And?"

_"She was hysterical. Had to be put to sleep."_

"And there's my point," Francis replied. "Look, I have to go but please, please, please, for the love of God, don't make any decisions yet. I have things in the works, articles, studies, multiple opinions... Just let me go through that and see where it takes us."

_"How long?"_

"A week or two."

Diane tutted. _"Fine. I just want to put an end to his suffering."_

"What if he isn't suffering at all? He's just asleep and he'll wake up when _he's_ ready," Francis told her. "I have to go. Goodbye, Diane."

_"Hmm,"_ Diane hummed, hanging up.

Francis threw his phone onto the coffee table and leaned back in his seat. "Can you believe that?"

Mary shrugged. "I don't know what to make of it. On one hand, sure but on the other, people say they wait _years_ until someone wakes up. There's still hope and that is why we should celebrate your birthday despite that." She turned the TV on. "Look, the news segment is dedicating something to you! Happy 21st, Francis."

Francis smiled a little. "What did you get me?"

"Something better than a photograph of your unconscious brother," Mary muttered. "We'll take this to Gautier and then, I'll treat you with your siblings."

"You're so good to me."

"I have to be," Mary said. "Because you're my baby daddy."

"Don't say that!" He laughed, snorting. "Oh, God... I've always hated those phrases."

"Too formal," she teased him, pressing a kiss on his jaw. "Before we do anything, want to get into your birthday suit for me?"

Francis raised his eyebrows. "And here I was thinking, it was my birthday."

...

Francis had a quiet birthday. He laid on the sectional on Emone's lap with LouLou in his arms, Hattie laying on her side on the other part of the sectional and Emone playing with his blonde curls. Mary snapped a picture for the memories, thinking how fatherly he looked. Perhaps having more than two children was an option for them.

Lissie sat on her own seat, scrolling through her iPad as Margo watched the animated film with the rest of them. Even Claude had appeared, hungover but willing to watch one movie with the siblings before disappearing back to sleep.

"Francis..." Louis drawled in his sweet voice.

"Hmm?"

"Will Bash be okay?"

His siblings turned to him and Lissie's eyes warned him not to say anything out of turn but to be realistic. Mary sighed from her seat and continued to text her friends, deciding not to be too involved. She wasn't going to be forced to choose sides.

"Bash just needs a lot of rest," Francis finally said.

"We haven't seen him," Emone said, looking down at him.

Hattie nodded. "Papa said we weren't allowed. Why?"

"Oh, Bash wouldn't want you to see him like that. He's not his usual good-looking self, I mean I look better than him right now!" Francis replied lightly, making them giggle as he started to tickle Louis. "Who wants ice cream?"

"I do!" The kids cried out.

Charles rolled his eyes and laid back down on the carpet, Henri joining him as they talked about something quietly.

"No ice cream for you boys?" Francis asked, lifting Louis onto his hip and taking Hattie's hand as Emone took her other hand.

"Ice cream won't bring Bash back," Charles snapped.

Francis sighed. "Here I thought that my little siblings were going to give me a birthday to remember. How right I was but for the opposite reason."

He left with the younger three and Margo got up from her seat to sit between the boys. "Today is about one brother only. Focus on him and you can be as mad and as upset as you want tomorrow."

Henri nodded. "Sorry."

"It's not me you should be saying that to," Margo said gently. "I know we all are hurting and it's hard not being allowed to see him-"

"Father allowed you, Lissie and Claude," Charles cut her off.

"Yes, but that is because we won't burst into tears the minute we see him," Claude said, shrugging. "Anyway, he'll be well enough to come home so stop your whining."

"Claude!" Mary cried out, becoming involved. _Shit_, she thought. "Charles, Henri, I can't make any promises but I will speak to your father."

"Would you?" Henri asked. "Thank you."

"Yes," Charles mumbled. "Thank you."

Mary nodded, returning her attention to her phone. "Margaret, your tutoring starts in two hours, have you done your homework for it?"

"No..."

"Go and do it now," Mary said, turning to Lissie. "Elisabeth, go and tell Mr Jones to make the children fish fingers and mash. They enjoy that now and since it's Francis's birthday, they deserve some joy in this place."

Lissie nodded, getting up. "I will, Your Highness."

Mary rolled her eyes, watching her leave. "And Claude?"

"What?" Claude snapped.

"I see that water bottle. Give it here."

Claude narrowed her eyes but threw it at Mary who caught it easily. "How did you-"

"Call it _mother's intuition_," Mary told her, sniffing the bottle to confirm her suspicions. "Now go and play football with Charlie and Henri. Get some air and sober up."

Claude stood, pulling Charles up by the cuff. "Who died and made you mum?" She asked Mary.

"Considering your mother is too busy with her duties to parent you as your father mopes about Fontainebleau, yes someone died and made me mum," Mary said. "But not for long because this won't last. And no one will die."

Henri gave her a smile. "I think our lives are better with you in it. You've parented us more than our actual parents have as a whole."

Mary blushed but kept her head high. "Well, practice makes perfect," she replied, cradling her bump with a smile.

...

Francis opened his eyes and dropped his hands. He looked over at Bash and studied him, wondering who was coming to clean up his face, shave his stubble and whatever else they did to care for comatose people. Could that person have snuck the box in then?

"What a birthday," he said. "We watched Shrek for the billionth time. I didn't want the kids to complain so I had to submit. Just the once because after, I got them to watch Despicable Me. Don't tell anyone but I love animated films."

He stood up and went over to the TV, turning it on and flicking through the channels.

"Crime drama? Out of taste," he mumbled, throwing words over his shoulder as if Bash was actively participating in giving him options. "News is overplayed. Quiz shows...? Seems interesting enough." He sighed. "News, it is. But I should warn you, they don't talk about anything other than you, Mr Popular."

He placed the remote down and rubbed his face, going back to the bed.

"Do you know anyone who came inside with a camera?" Francis asked, placing his hands, palm down, on the bed. "A nurse, doctor? Move a finger or flutter your eyes... _Anything_, Sebastian."

But nothing.

"If you don't move, then I'll..." _What_, he thought. _What would you do, Francis?_

Francis chuckled wryly, placing his hands on his cheeks in resignment. Maybe Diane was right. All these opinions and they all said the same thing - time or give up trying. Francis wanted to wait but everyone, even his father deep down wanted to give up.

"Fine," Francis whispered softly, taking a seat and Bash's hand. "You win. Everyone wins."

Wins what exactly? Death? Suffering? Pain? Grief?

"I give you permission to give up or whatever you want to do," he said, his voice breaking. "But if you want to hold on, just give me a sign."

Nothing.

"I'll let you go?" He tried.

Nothing.

Francis stood back up and walked over to the TV, increasing the volume so he didn't have to hear the constant whirring or whatever noise the stupid life support machine was making. It was uncomfortable and eery and it imprinted itself into his head. He could hear it when he was asleep. When he was watching the movie. When he was in the car, travelling to and fro, all the damn time.

He returned to his seat and closed his eyes, one hand on Bash's hand and the other covering his eyes. He began to mumble a prayer, not really knowing _what_ he was praying for that he hadn't already earlier.

Time passed and by the time he opened his eyes, he realised he fell asleep. It was nearing eleven and he rested his head against the bed. Might as well fall asleep. Mary would understand if he remained the night.

Just as he was about to fall deep into sleep again, he felt a twitch.

Eyes snapping open, he turned to Bash to see if it was true.

But nothing happened and Francis put it down to his tired mind playing tricks on him.

He bowed his head again and closed his eyes, the TV still droning on in the background.

But it happened again.

And again, nothing for a while.

Francis stood up and an idea came to his mind. He opened up the hospital drawer and retrieved a bottle of perfume. Kenna's. Mary had given it to him earlier, explaining that she read that familiar scents or feels could help a comatose person awaken.

Francis sprayed the perfume into the air, sweet, fruity scent filling their surroundings like a vine wrapping around its victim. His eyes cast down to Bash whose eyes began to move rapidly under his eyelids as if he was searching for something.

"Bash?" Francis tried, placing the bottle down and taking his hand. "Bash, it's me."

Bash shifted, his eyes fluttering open and landing on Francis. "Oh, it's you..." He croaked out, disappointed before closing his eyes.

"What?" Francis asked, slightly insulted before he realised what he meant. The perfume.

"Kenna," Bash whispered, confirming Francis's suspicions.

Francis beamed. "Oh my God, you arsehole!" He cried out, hugging him tightly. "I should have known Kenna would wake you up."

_["_..._Antoine Bourbon, the nephew of King Henry VI of France was arrested by Swedish authorities at the Swedish-Norwegian border. He is believed to have been behind Prince Sébastien and Duchess Mckenna of Orléan's tragic car accident. Evidence revealed showed that he was stalking the couple, something he did in previous years to other women. He is expected to be extradited back to France to face judgement following his suspected crimes..."]_

Francis turned to the TV as Bash opened his eyes.

_["...But just in, King Henry's mistress, Lady Penelope Lombard reveals she is pregnant with the King's baby as multiple women accuse him of rape."]_

Francis stood slowly, his eyes wide as he shook his head. "Oh, no, no, no. Oh, this can't be happening..."

"I... predicted this," Bash whispered. "But not... this bad."

"Some birthday this is," Francis muttered, placing his hands on his hips as he studied the news coverage.

...

Lissie threw her remote at the TV, running her hands through her hair as Claude stumbled into her bedroom to see if she saw the same thing. Even Margaret entered, flusteredly tying up the belt of her robe.

"Where's Francis?" Lissie demanded, grabbing her phone.

"Forget Francis, where's Father?!" Claude cried out. "What is this woman saying? They never-"

"You must be so naïve," Lissie breathed out, scrolling through her recent calls. "They've been sleeping with each other for years."

Margo covered her mouth in shock. "I thought she was our friend-"

"Penelope has _never_ been our friend," Lissie snapped. "An opportunist. Fed me sweet compliments and... _fuck!"_

"I bet this has Antoine written all over it," Claude said. "We need to get to Fontaine-"

"You stay with the boys and the little ones," Lissie calmly said, bringing her phone to her ear. "Margo, check on Mary and see if she's alright. I don't think Francis is coming home tonight."

Her sisters nodded and left to carry out her orders. She had to be the sensible one, she couldn't let bitterness take over her body. Just as they received the good news that their prick of a cousin had been arrested, they received bad news straight after. Confirming everyone's suspicions that Henry VI of France couldn't keep it in his pants.

He wasn't the first royal to have an affair but a _king_, for God's sake! A king with a wife and ten children. The patron of their country, the Père de France, God's anointed.

_"Lissie, I can't talk right-"_

"We know, Francis."

_"I'm trying to reach Father-"_

"Where are you?"

_"With Bash. We're just talking about it, he's trying to get a hold of Father-"_

"What?" Lissie breathed out. Was he playing a joke on them _right now_? "What the fuck are you saying? Bash is com-"

_"Right here and I can hear you."_

Lissie clamped her mouth shut, tears springing to her eyes as she let out a sob. "You... of course, you'd pick today of all days. Fucking hell...!"

She heard him chuckle. _"As much as I'd love to chat, we need to do some damage control and find out what's going on. First Antoine and now this..."_

"I'll come tomorrow," she promised him. "We all will. The little ones too. We'll be a family. Who needs parents?"

_"Yeah. Can't wait,"_ he mumbled. _"Alright, I've just got a hold of Gautier-"_

_"We have to go, Lissie. Talk soon."_

The phone hung up and Lissie sat down, wiping her runny nose. She let out a smile but then it disappeared and she fixed herself before going to her bedroom, finding her little brother on her bed. At least it wasn't Mary and Francis's bed he ended up, Mary's back was starting to hurt.

"Alright, LouLou," she mumbled, fixing him so he laid straight as opposed to the whole bed. "Let's get some rest."

...

"No one can find Dad," Francis mumbled, hanging up the call and turning to Bash. "Today of all fucking days."

Bash nodded, his eyes closing. "I've slept for more than a month and I still feel tired."

"Lucky for some."

"Francis-"

"I'm fine. More so that you're better," Francis said, placing a kiss on Bash's forehead. "Bubba."

"Fuck," Bash muttered lightly. "I thought I outgrew that."

Francis grinned. "Never." He stepped back. "I need to get to Fontainebleau. Will you be alright?"

"Yeah," Bash mumbled. "I'm just tired. I'll sleep."

"Okay. Knowing you're fine, I could try and catch more than five hours sleep but after I find Dad and see what's going on."

"Mhm," Bash hummed. "Before you go..."

Francis paused in putting his coat on. "Yes?"

"Can you get a device with Skype for me, please?"

Francis smiled a little. "Yeah. I'll see if Michel will spare his."

"Thank you."

"What for?"

Bash opened his eyes. "For not giving up."

Francis beamed, cupping Bash's cheek and placing another kiss on his forehead before putting his coat on. "I should be thanking you. In fact, everyone should because I've not been... _complete_. I've been an arsehole to everyone and I know that I wasn't the only one grieving but... I don't what I'd do without you."

"Apologise, make things better and come tomorrow morning with the rest of them before they lose their minds."

Francis grinned. "I will," he said, heading to the door.

"Oh, and Ranci?"

Francis turned to Bash with a smirk. "What?"

"Nothing," Bash said with a grin. "Just wanted to annoy you but I'm too tired for that shit."

"Dickhead!"

"Right back at you. Now go, fetch me my tablet, peasant."

"You're enjoying this aren't you?"

"Everyone at my beck and call?" Bash asked. "Yes, yes I am."

After having the tablet and Francis leave, Bash settled back onto his pillows with a heavy sigh. On one hand, he wanted to sleep, but on the other hand, he had to find out how his wife was doing.

Just as he was about to call her on Skype, there was a knock on the door and he invited the person in. He inwardly groaned, placing a tight smile on his face as he bid the woman inside.

"Madeleine," he greeted her. "How did you-"

"Michel remembers me. That and I was helping them with the investigation," she said, taking a seat beside his bed. "I was the one who directed the authorities to Antoine. I never knew I could manipulate him like that, into giving me his location... Told him something along the lines that Father forgave him and was ready to write him back in the will if only he came home. He said he couldn't and I suggested that we all go to Norway to meet him. Fell for it."

Bash blinked in surprise. "I don't know what to say."

"A 'thank you' would suffice," she said with a small smile. "I couldn't believe the news... I kept saying it wasn't true. But then even I know Antoine is capable of anything. He's lost his way, he no longer believes in God or believes there's still some good deep down inside him."

"There's no good in him, everyone knows that."

"One could hope," Madeleine replied. "Remember when we met?"

"Please, don't."

"The bar in Mexico of all places," she said. "You were celebrating your eighteenth after having time off from the Army. If only we knew back then what we were before we got carried away."

Bash flinched. "That was a mistake."

"Imagine what I thought when I saw you at the chateau, arguing with your father when I came to sign the edict. By then, I was set to marry my husband and I forgot all about what happened between us," she told him. "I'm glad you're okay, Sébastien. Your father's heart was broken."

"So I've been told," Bash replied. "Thank you for your help and for the visit. I'd like to be alone now."

She stood up. "Of course. If you need anything, my husband's running for the Dutch Parliament. He will get it. So if you or Francis need something, he has people in high places all around the world."

"What makes you say that?" Bash asked, narrowing his eyes.

Madeleine smiled knowingly. "Your father's indiscrétion will affect your family's image even more. Francis will be king and I will support him. I love your father, he was kind to me when my brothers overshadowed my light. But he cannot rule France anymore. Not like this, not with its finances being squandered away on bad choices. He isn't controlling the Parliament well enough, they're making decisions that put him in a bad light. I hope you'll help Francis get the throne sooner rather than later and deal with this country's politics."

"At this point, Catherine owns France," Bash stated.

"Not when Francis will be king. He will have his beautiful wife and they'll pull the strings together," Madeleine replied. "There will be an interregnum period when Henry steps down, use it wisely."

With that lasting thought, she left and Bash sighed heavily. It wasn't the first thing he wanted to hear when he first woke up. This time last year, he was in Australia, different girl for different days, alcohol and whatever came with his winter break away from France. Now, he was being brought into the politics of France.

His attention went to the TV and he rolled his eyes, listening to the panel of reporters discuss what happens next for the French Royal Family. _Bullshit_, Bash thought, using his good arm to reach over and grab the remote.

He turned the TV off and paged Michel inside.

"None of the Bourbons are allowed. That includes sisters who change their surnames after marriage," he told the man. "Am I clear?"

Michel nodded. "As you wish, sir."

"I was told a photograph was taken of me?"

"Y-Yes, Your Lordship."

Bash winced. "I want every name of every medical professional who has been on my case. Have people question them and then in the morning, have Narcisse visit me."

"I will let him know right away and get right on that," Michel replied. He paused before the door. "Glad you're better, Your Highness."

"Drop the formalities, you've seen me at death's door. Sadly, there was no light and I didn't walk to it. I figured even if there was light, I'd rather my wife's terrible cooking than an eternity of perfectly good food."

"One thing for sure, your dry humour was missed," Michel muttered with a smile before leaving.

...

Francis was the first one to roll his eyes when he saw Narcisse scribing down everything Bash told him as he entered the room the next morning. "Don't tell me you're working."

"I have my staff preparing my room at Fontainebleau. Has no one seriously seen where Father went?" Bash asked, using Michel's support to get out of the bed.

Francis walked over, helping Michel seat him into a wheelchair. "He disappeared. People said he had a meltdown, others say he was cursing at the chapel but none were sufficient enough to tell us where he went."

"Francis, you know what this means. France looks to you now," Bash told him, swallowing hard as his arm stung with pain. "It's worse than it looks." He eyed Francis's concerned gaze. "Possible nerve damage, I made it worse trying to get the door open on Kenna's side of the car."

"Is it reversible?" Francis asked him, eyes wide.

"Should heal within the next two months or so," Bash replied hopefully. "It wasn't damaged in the sense that my nerves were cut. More or less bruised."

Francis smiled. "That's good."

"How is my wife, by the way?" _Need to call her ASAP,_ Bash thought.

"She still doesn't know you're awake," Francis replied slowly. "Within good reason. She is booked at some elite hospital, for physiotherapy."

Bash closed his eyes. "Can you put her out of her misery, _please_?"

"I will, this afternoon," Francis promised.

"I found out how the photo came to be," Bash began. "Can we walk and talk? Or be pushed in my position. I've just been told I've been confined to this room for over a month and I'm telling you now, it's _dreadful_."

Francis sighed, crossing his arms. "Forgot what you promised?"

Bash frowned before realising what he meant. "Can they wait an hour-"

"No."

"Fuck. Okay, bring them in."

Like an army, their younger siblings entered, Louis first as he launched himself into Bash's arm, burying his face into his chest.

"You could look better," Claude said teasingly as Emone and Hattie kissed his cheeks, and Charles and Henri smiled for the first time in ages.

"Don't tell me, that hospital gown's Armarni," Lissie added, giving him a wink. "Mother sends her love."

Bash scoffed. "Yeah, right."

"Okay, she sends a fruit basket, Roquefort and your favourite wine to go with them," Margo told him, eyeing Michel and Narcisse. "Can we have some privacy, please?"

Both Michel and Narcisse turned to Bash and he nodded.

"Give me two hours," he told them.

"Very well, Your Highness," Narcisse said before bowing and turning to the rest. "Your Highnesses." And to Francis, "Your Royal Highness."

The two men left and Bash found himself being attacked with hugs.

"Oh, it's been awful," Margo muttered. "Never do that again!"

"I don't intend to," Bash said, his eyes meeting Francis's. He guessed the blonde was right. They did value him more now.

He used his free hand to send a quick text to Francis as their siblings went over to the TV to argue about what to put on so they could all watch together. He turned to Francis and Francis looked down at his phone.

{**To Francis:** Dupain. Charles Bourbon's former doctor.}

Francis took a sharp intake of breath, shaking his head in disbelief. He looked up at Bash and nodded before slipping his phone into his breast pocket and excusing himself from the room where he met Michel outside with Gautier.

"You both know what do to," he told them. "I want him questioned and his medical license taken."

...

Mary hurried forward, catching the woman just in time. She was staying at a five-star hotel and Mary had got sources to find her for her. For Catherine, more less. The queen was out of her wits and with the king missing, Mary offered to sort out the situation quietly.

"Lady Penelope, is it?"

Penelope stopped, turned and smiled plastically at Mary. "Your Royal Highness," she said, curtseying. "To whom do I owe the pleasure?"

"Is it true?"

"Straight to the point," Penelope said, impressed. "It is true. I have the tests to prove it."

"And the paternity?"

"Oh, it's the King's. I would never keep him from his child," Penelope replied. "He loves his children and he will love this one too."

Mary wanted to call her out for her stupidity, that there were obvious ways to prove paternity. Especially this one, "A sous chef at the chateau said you often engaged in sexual intercourse."

"We always used protection."

"Fair enough," Mary replied. "You need to tell the world you are lying."

"Why would I do that?"

"Because this will hurt your family in more ways you think of if the truth gets out. That the child you're carrying or not carrying isn't Henry's," Mary told her. "Think wisely, Lady Penelope. This is the only warning you will get."

Mary turned around and walked away, her phone beeping with a text. She opened it up and saw an address from an unknown number. With a sigh, Mary contemplated whether to go as her heels continued to click-clack against the marble floors.

By the time she got into the car, she gave the address to Colin.

She was taken to a lovely estate home, just northwest of Brittany, Rennes. From the not so subtle coat of arms on the gates, Mary assumed that this was were Henry was laying low.

Colin stopped in front of the front doors and three guards she didn't recognise opened the car door and both front doors for her. She got out of the car and entered the house, looking at the portraits on the walls of the winding stairs. They were stunning, familial portraits and Mary smiled.

"Beautiful, aren't they?" She heard someone say from beside her. "My most prized possessions after my children, the muses, of course."

"Henry. What is going on, Your Majesty?" She asked, turning on her heels to stare at the side of his face, his eyes trained on the portraits, hands in his pockets.

Henry smiled a little. "The child is not mine. It's impossible."

"You had a vasectomy?" Mary guessed.

"I did," Henry said. "After I found out I had prostate cancer following Louis's birth. I kept it from everyone, took that five-month-long sabbatical in America to get treated. I used the guise of investigating my brother's untimely death in privacy as an excuse arousing suspicion he was killed under suspicious circumstances. He wasn't. He died from a brain aneurysm when we were teenagers."

Mary raised her eyebrows. "I'm so sorry, Henry."

"I'm getting by," he said. "No need to apologise."

"Sorry if this is too intrusive of me but is that why you and Catherine...?"

Henry slowly turned to face her.

"Francis said that was around the time you kept separate rooms and well..." She glanced down at her stomach. "Stopped... I should stop-"

"I was too embarrassed. I feared rejection so sought sex from elsewhere," Henry replied. "You must be parched. Catherine was always thirsty when she was pregnant. I have Winter's Brew."

She followed him to the conservatory. "What's that?"

"A recipe Diane got from her mother. It's drunk in Winter," Henry explained. "Made of kale, kiwi, limes, pineapples and strawberries with cinnamon. It's heated up and mixed with Rum. I'll keep the Rum out for you though."

Mary sat down and accepted a glass. "Thank you. So, it's like mulled wine?"

"I guess, less alcohol," Henry said, drinking his.

"Why are you in hiding?"

"I don't know."

"Did you rape those women?"

"No."

"Then isn't running away making you look guilty?"

Henry shook his head. "I'll return. I've only been with five women in my lifetime."

"Shall I guess who they are?" Mary asked jovially, sipping her drink.

He smiled wryly. "I can see your Scottish side dominates. You don't take shit from people. You are honest, unlike most of the people at the chateau."

"I'm going to guess," Mary stated. "Catherine, Diane, Penelope, Kenna and..."

Henry winced. "Some married woman I had relations with. Her husband is still in Parliament so I'll keep that one to myself. The women who came out with these false stories used to be employed as staff. Disgruntled women who I rejected. I had no desire for sex following my illness but Penelope... I thought she understood me."

"I'm so sorry," Mary said. "Why don't you tell Cath-"

"I slept with Diane." He shook his head. "If I told her about my condition, I'd have to spill everything. I'm not ready to lose Catherine. I tried to do this with the least amount of damage for her. She didn't ask for this marriage, it happened but I came to love her somewhat. She bore me nine children, how could I be ungrateful?" He increased the volume of Rum in his drink. "I allowed her to keep her secret... I even tried to make things easier for her and allowed the secret to exist. It wasn't enough. I never give her enough. Now, this."

Mary was surprised. Henry accepted Clarissa but no one knew that. He didn't know she knew about her. "What happens now?"

"I'm abdicating, Mary. I am sure you've come to realise things were coming to an end for me," he told her. "You see, I asked you what would happen if you became Queen Consort two months ago."

Mary nodded slowly. "I see. You knew this was coming."

"I ended things with Penelope. I told her I wanted to spend the rest of the time I had left with Catherine."

Mary bit her lip, willing her tears to not come into fruition. "Your cancer is back?"

"Incurable," he mumbled. "Just as I was settling into organising things for Francis, Sweden happened."

"Bash is awake, Henry."

Henry's face faltered and he almost spilt his drink, quickly placing it onto the table. "What did you say?"

"Bash woke up," Mary whispered. "Francis was there and... He's talking and he's _recovered_."

"I have to see him..." Henry breathed out in shock. "I-I have to see him right now."

Mary stopped him. "Francis called me. I lied to him where I was going. He told me that Bash was persistent in going to Fontainebleau to sort out this mess. To deal with Antoine, try and soften the damage done."

"It's easy to solve all of these issues," Henry said. "I need Samuel Nostradamus on the phone."

"You trust him? After everything?"

"He speaks the truth. His employees' actions do not make me think less of him," Henry replied. "He's been a part of Catherine's life for a long time. She will need his support."

Mary paused. "Henry, I know we have not had a chance to become close but I do respect you. My father, I never knew him but how everyone who did speaks about him with utmost admiration, including you... I know you all would have redeeming factors about you. So, abdicate, spend your last years or whatever making it up to your family. And don't mess things up with them."

"As you wish, _Your Majesty_," Henry said lightly, finishing his drink. "I think we better head to Fontainebleau."

"I think we better too," Mary replied.

...

"Where have you been?"

Mary stopped putting the pillowcase on her pillow and turned to her husband. "I went to see Lady Penelope," she simply said, continuing to change the bedding.

"What are you doing?"

"Changing our bedsheets, Francis," Mary said, smiling a little in amusement.

"We have people to do that. Come, sit down-"

"God forbid the pregnant woman giving herself something to do! Or that we're normal people who do normal things like changing our own bedding," Mary chided, giggling. "Calm down, Francis."

Francis ran his fingers through his hair. "I'm sorry. My father turned up and the first thing he did was ignore what was going on and focused on Bash. Even Bash was pissed off, helping me do as much damage control as we could by appealing to Members of Parliament. Apparently, I'll need to start looking into suitable members to join as I'll have to disband the useless one we have now. That and the Prime Minister are I are in talks every other minute."

"Where is this leading to?" She already knew.

"Interregnum. My father steps down, an investigation and a trial are conducted as I rally support from every political ally I can," Francis told her, taking a seat on their sofa. "And I will most likely become king after our child is born."

Mary sat beside him. "Four months."

"Yes," he replied. "Four months of a complete shitstorm." He sighed, placing a hand on her bump. "How are you?"

"I'm fine," she said. "Kenna called me, asked if it was true. I told her it was and the next thing I know, she's on her way."

Francis grinned. "Bash is desperate to see her. He isn't one hundred per cent yet but he's getting there. He's falling back asleep every now and then, the doctor said that was normal. It's his body's way of rebooting. I forgot how restless he was, getting right into ordering things left, right and centre. He really should have been king over me. I doubt I'd even be a good father how I was falling apart. Just as I have been a shitty husband."

Mary cupped his cheeks and turned his face to look at her. "You and Bash both have your strengths and weaknesses. Bash may be good at finding solutions for certain issues, but he would crumble beneath the pressure. But you? You're compassionate, loving, caring, strong, wise and you do things for the sake of others. You've been trained your whole life for this, you will do _great_ things, Francis Valois. Look at how you were researching, day and night, for Bash. If he knew just how much you cared for him, willing to risk your health, he would appreciate you even more than he does already. Leading to fatherhood... Seeing you hurt and try to save Bash? I know you'll do _anything_ for our child and the ones after them. You are perfect and you are a wonderful husband."

Francis kissed her softly. "Are you done making the bed?"

"Not exactly, why?"

"I want you," he whispered against her lips before kissing them. "Right now."

Mary's eyes fluttered closed. "Then take me," she whispered back.

When they were finished, Mary followed Francis downstairs just in time to see Henry and Catherine in the middle of an argument. Mary flinched when Henry begged her only to be shut up with a loud slap.

His eyes landed on Mary and Francis and he composed himself.

"François, Marie," he said cordially. "Excusez nous."

"Yes," Catherine snapped. "Leave us."

Francis shook his head. "No," he said, continuing down the steps. "I think you both need to start listening to _me_. I have questions and you both have the answers." He turned to face Mary. "Wife, I think you need to be there too."


	18. Let's Spill Some Home Truths

**Quote of the chapter: "Let parents bequeath to their children not riches, but the spirit of reverence." – Plato.**

* * *

"So, what I've been told for months from different sources is true?" Francis asked his parents, arms crossed. "About the debt France is in and how Italy keeps bailing her out?"

They sat before him, he stood. They were inferior, he was superior. Mary raised her eyebrows at how calm and collected her husband was, seeking answers he deserved from his parents. A future king indeed.

"I was sixteen when my brother died at age eighteen," Henry began quietly. "Twenty when I became King of France. My father passed away, cancer. My mother was too heartbroken to be Queen Regent or Mother even. A lot of heavy decisions laid with me." He crossed one leg over the other. "France went through a stage of interregnum. I didn't have my coronation until two years later when I was twenty-two. I was in university, I got to see the world a bit, make friends for life. To be free before the prison called a crown was put upon me. The government assured me they would do things to my content as I took the time to _grieve_ what I'd lose and my never present father. He only had eyes for Francis, your uncle. I named you after him because Francis only had eyes for me."

"I'm sorry you got to miss out-"

"I didn't miss out," Henry told his son. "I had a life, but it just changed. A wise man once told me that 'responsibilities were for the strong. If you are weak, I wouldn't even waste my breath on you'." His eyes landed on Mary. "I never forgot those words. But I let him down. I let my father down. I let my _brother_ down. But I still came out on top because my second wife turned out to be a blessing in disguise."

Catherine's eyes softened. "Was I?" She asked tersely as she rolled her eyes.

Henry smiled. "You know you were. Maybe too much though."

Mary cleared her throat. "Who told you about the responsibility thing?"

"James Stuart. Perhaps, that was why I asked for you and Francis to be married even though you weren't even in existence. Because his daughter was sure to help my heir be the best damn king anyone ever knew." Henry sighed. "I saw him shortly before he passed away."

Mary frowned. "My mother did say he went to France before I was born."

Henry nodded. "I wasn't in the right frame of mind. I was depressed and I begged him to come. Catherine was pregnant with Francis and I was paranoid that someone was out to kill me. The last time I saw him was the day I..."

"You 'what'?" Catherine breathed out in fear.

Henry paused, shaking his head. "It was the anniversary of my brother's death and I didn't want to burden you with that. We barely knew each other, Catherine. We'd known each other physically for ten months, how could I tell you that I never wanted this life? That I wanted to be reunited with my brother?"

"Oh, Henry..." Catherine whispered, taking his hand. "I would have supported you."

"I wouldn't have wanted you to. Not when we were expecting our first child together," Henry told her, eyeing Francis. "He was important, not my silly feelings. You had nothing to worry anyway because James saw to that. I owe him my life, I owe it to him to help Mary."

Francis sat down. "Dad, I'm so sorry."

"For what?" His father asked. "Sorry that I don't know how to rule a country because I was never trained? Because I was the second son and not the first choice? Sorry that I thought marrying for love will solve all my problems? Over the years, I have had to guard my heart, listen to God more than I do people. I've had to push people away so they couldn't see that I was actually in pieces."

"Tell me about the country's finances," Francis asked gently.

"It was terrible until my family stepped in," his mother revealed. "The family owed money from reparations following the coup and revolution back to the people of France. Your father found out after Sébastien was born. The Government were involved and lied to him about just how bad the money situation was - not even your grandfather could handle it. There was no way he could continue with France crashing and burning financially so he had to marry me. He had to allow me to have 65% control over France. I never wanted it but being resentful of my parents' judgement for my life before Henry, I used that against Henry. I used that to... force him to love me. I don't even know why because he was certainly not my first love."

"And what about forcing Dad to have your relatives put into the Military and Parliament?"

"I had to keep your father on my side somehow. I couldn't let him run back to Diane, I needed to have a hold on him to keep him with _me_," Catherine admitted with a sigh. "Then my parents kept putting pressure on me to handle the reins and to try and get them all they invested, and my family in high positions in France could make that happen. I thought if I could have Henry love me, I could be less reliant on Italy. How I wanted to be in the first place so I could have a chance to..."

Henry turned to her. "Tell him, Catherine."

Catherine shook as she eyed Francis. "Francis, you and your siblings have an older half-sister."

Francis froze. "W-What?"

"I was young, stupid and she had... I'm ashamed of myself," Catherine mumbled. "When I married your father, I gave her to her own father. I never stopped loving her and I always was involved in her life, even if it was from a painful distance."

"How could you be involved?"

Catherine smiled wryly. "The girl who did odd-jobs, security, kitchens, maid... Clarissa."

"Clarissa Giroud?" Francis asked in shock. "M-My friend, Clarissa? The one who comforted me when I was upset about being apart from Mary during my anxiety phase?"

"Yes," Catherine whispered.

Francis covered his face. "I-I can't believe it." He looked at his mother. "And you were going to keep that from us? Who else knows?"

"Just your father, Diane and me. Obviously the girl's paternal family but I paid them off," Catherine said. "Francis, I'm so sorry."

Mary didn't let on that she knew as she said, "This is a good thing, right? You always said you felt a connection to her. This explains that!"

Francis turned to her in disbelief. "Do you have any idea how awful it must be for her? For her mother to be a queen but for her to be kept a secret?"

"Fra-"

"I need some air."

He stood up and left, slamming the door behind her.

"Well, when he returns," Henry began, lifting his glass of Scotch and taking a long sip. "I have more truths to reveal..."

...

Francis rolled his eyes when he turned around the corner and saw Elisabeth sitting down on the bench, her knees against her chest as she stared at the wildlife before her.

Sighing, he took a seat beside her, noting that she was shivering in the cold.

"Where's your coat?" He asked her.

"Where's yours?" She retorted, sniffling.

Francis turned to her. "Bash is fine. He's coming home, why are-"

"It's not that," Lissie whispered, her tears falling down her cheeks as she turned to face him. "I lost it."

Francis gasped, his arm going around her shoulders and pulling her head to his chest. "I'm so sorry."

"Don't be," she mumbled. "I was conflicted about it so I guess now I don't have to tell anyone."

"You should tell the father."

Lissie scoffed, turning to face him. "God, no!" She cried out. "There's nothing to say. What would he do? Nothing. Not even Mama and Papa can do anything."

"Mama and Papa keep secrets from us as well," Francis said bitterly.

"Is this about King Henry being brought down to his knees?" Lissie asked, rolling her eyes.

Francis sighed heavily. "I don't know what to make of our father, Elisabeth. Or our mother."

"You're only just realising that they're shitty people?" Lissie scoffed. "Boy, you and your little wife are so naïve."

"Screw me for believing that our parents could be good," Francis snapped.

"Don't get mad at me!"

"I'm not," he said, sighing. "I just... I don't... Dad's abdicating, you know? He hasn't said he is but I know that whatever bullshit in there that is going on is leading to that."

Lissie narrowed her eyes. "So he did rape those women?"

"I don't know. Why else would he willingly give up? You can't exactly take a king to court and condemn him for his sins. He's invincible in that aspect but take away the crown..."

"You get an easy target," Lissie whispered. "But one thing for sure, that whore is most certainly not having his baby."

Francis smiled wryly. "Small mercies. Thinks we don't know about her love trysts with the kitchen boy."

Lissie rubbed her arms for warmth. "Francis?"

"Yeah?"

"How do you feel?"

"Defeated," Francis said honestly. "And I haven't even begun the battle."

Lissie turned to him. "You'll be the best damn king France has ever seen," she told him. "You may be young, still living life and trying to see where things take you with Mary and your baby but you'll get there. You will succeed, we're all rooting for you. Nous avons votre dos."

"Merci," Francis mumbled. "I should get back inside."

He kissed her forehead and left her, continuing to rock on the bench as she watched the fish swim in the fountain feature. He entered through the back and found Bash being wheeled in by Michel.

"I can walk-"

"No, King's _and_ new doctor's orders," Michel told him. "I have Dr Winter on standby. We thought having familiar staff would ease you into living at Fontainebleau."

"For fuck's sake..."

Francis chuckled. "Bash."

Bash looked up and blushed a little. "You there, peasant. Help me get to my room."

Francis scoffed in amusement. "I think not! Also, I kind of stormed out a conversation with His and Her Majesties."

Bash winced. "Anything I need to be a part of?"

"I don't know."

"Oh, either way, I'm not coming," Bash said, using his good arm to wheel himself down the hallway. "I'm tired, parched, dying. Any excuse that doesn't leave me in a confined space with Catherine de Medici. Au revoir."

"You're weird, do you know that?"

"I'm surprised you've only just realised that now," Bash called over his shoulder as Michel followed him with a chuckle.

Francis returned to the room and sat back down. "I've taken some time to think."

"And?" His mother asked.

"Where's Clarissa?"

"In the Navy."

"Tell the younger ones and when she's off duty, we'll introduce ourselves properly," Francis told her. "I'm sorry for earlier-"

Catherine shook her head. "Don't be. I'm glad you know now."

Henry met Mary's eyes and he gave her a sad smile, deciding _not_ to tell them everything. Not yet at least. "We obviously all know that the allegations are false on all parts. And there is a way to discredit Lady Penelope Lombard."

"How?" Francis asked.

"I had a vasectomy after Louis was born."

"Oh."

Catherine gasped. "You never told me!"

"I thought ten children was enough for me," Henry lied. If he could, he'd have more. "Did we really need to continue breeding out more children? We barely spend enough time with the ones we have already. My medical files are sealed but if one was to unseal it for court, they would find out that Lady Penelope was spiteful and jealous that I was faithful to my wife."

"Oh, Henry...!"

"I should have told you," Henry said. "I was embarrassed. I got it done when I was in the States. Then afterwards, my sex drive was pretty much nonexistent."

Catherine shook her head in disbelief. "I could kill you sometimes!"

"Hey, that's regicide," Francis said lightly. "We've had enough attempts on royals already." He turned to his father. "You don't have to step down. I'm not ready to be king nor-"

"Francis, I have to," Henry said. "We can easily fix all of this including the Antoine Bourbon situation but I had decided, I will abdicate." He took Catherine's hand. "And Catherine and I will leave for Italy for three months to repair our marriage. There are some things parents need to keep from their children."

"But-"

"François, I am very proud of you and over the years you've been a great dauphin. It's time to take all that you've learnt and put it to use," Henry said. "First, organise your government so when you are crowned king, everything will slot into place and run like a well-oiled machine."

Francis sighed and nodded. "Oui, Father."

"Good," Henry breathed out. "Now, let's brave the storm."

...

A week later, everything was back to normal. Well, partly. Antoine Bourbon's case was being processed and the final day of the trial was taking place two days later. As for Penelope, she'd been exiled following Catherine's orders and the women who put forward that they had been raped had mysteriously taken back their statements, saying that it was a different person who hurt them.

Samuel Nostradamus was covering everything. From Penelope's vicious and vindictive lies to Antoine Bourbon's jealousy-fuelled rage and attempted murder of the beloved French Prince and his Scottish Bride.

He appeared behind his old friend's back.

"You called for me?"

Catherine nodded. "After Francis becomes king, I am leaving for Rennes. Permanently."

"With the King?"

"Yes," Catherine said quietly, her eyes stinging with tears. "I've been stupid."

"How?"

"I never knew that he had it hard," she mumbled. "He was never satisfied because he never knew what he wanted in the first place. He and I are very similar. I should have seen, should have _noticed_. Now, it's too late for us."

Samuel stepped closer. "Your Majesty?"

"Samuel, we're friends," she snapped lightly.

"Catherine?" He tried.

Catherine nodded. "He's dying, Samuel. What am I going to do?"

Nostradamus sighed heavily. "I know."

"What?"

"He called me to Rennes," he admitted. "He said he had a story. When he passes, I will release his autobiography under my pen name."

Catherine covered her mouth as tears slipped down her cheeks "Will you... be there when I need you?"

"Martina and I will always be here for you," he replied. "When the autobiography is released, we're moving to Spain. We will control the newspaper from there. You're welcome to stay with us at any time."

"Thank you, Sammy."

"Anytime, Cathy."

She took a deep breath. "I must cater to my stepson. He... He finds it difficult to get around."

"You tolerate him?"

"He's bearable. Fed me some home truths and well, he's smart, I can't deny," Catherine replied with a soft chuckle. "His siblings are obsessed with him. They were like death came knocking when he was comatose. My siblings would never be like that for me."

"Well, you have me," Samuel told her. "I will even shed some tears."

They laughed and Catherine hugged him, inhaling his scent. "I can't believe I never thought we'd never be compatible."

"We work better as friends, Catherine," he said, pulling away from her. "And Giroud was in the picture."

"Giroud broke my heart."

"Giroud had a duty to France," Samuel said firmly. "I couldn't have given you what you wanted. I was just a poor boy with a scholarship, your parents would have forbidden it."

Catherine smirked. "If only they could notice your efforts now. Nearing your billionth euro?"

"We'll see," he said, laughing. "More liked thousandth. Anyway, how will you all make money once you release yourself from the Medicis?"

"Mary suggested investing in the future. Funding fifty-thousand university places in STEM degrees from her own pocket," Catherine said. "That along with outgoing products and trade rather than incoming. We'll have royal products being sold for people of all classes. Affordable foods, clothing, you name it. Work to be stable. And Francis will see us through that."

"I am glad. He has a good wife."

"I never saw it until now. But I am glad she's here. Her father saved my husband and now, she saved my son," Catherine whispered. "I owe her everything."

...

"I would ask you to help me take a seat but you're worse than I am from the looks of it."

Bash smiled, turning to face Kenna who was on crutches. "Getting there?"

"Mhm," she said, getting to the armchair in front of him. "Hi, lover."

"Hi, babe," he said, reaching his hand out for her to take. "I missed you."

Kenna sighed. "I missed you too," she whispered. "It was... _hard_. I started PT as soon as I could. I just... I had to get better so I could look after you but I guess you didn't need me anyway."

"Did Francis tell you what woke me up?"

She shook her head. "Not exactly."

"Your perfume. You lent a bottle to Mary and the next thing I know, I'm hoping I see you when I wake up. It was only Francis and well, our reunion was short-lived because the news about my father was released."

"But that's all sorted out now, right?"

"Yeah," he replied. "Let's not talk about my disaster of a family. But how our honeymoon was cut short. Really short. Like, we were almost murdered short."

Kenna giggled. "One day, we'll get our honeymoon and dream wedding day," she told him. "No running away at the altar, no quickies down the registry office and most certainly, no fast cars and car accidents. I was never squeamish about blood until I lost about half of mine!"

"I'm fine with it. Saw it when I was in the..."

"I thought you didn't do the guns and blood?" She asked suspiciously.

"Some people were injured, I helped the medics," Bash said. "I'm not just a prince with a pretty face."

Kenna smiled, glancing downwards to her lap. "Do you mind if I lift my leg up? It twinges when I sit for long periods of time."

"Go for it."

She lifted her leg onto the ottoman and sighed in relief. "That's better. I had surgery on my knee. Wasn't that bad, a hairline fracture. I also had surgery on my spine." She gave him a wry smile. "Ugly scars..."

"I'm sure they're beautiful," Bash told her. "Either way, I've married you and we're doing this, in sickness and in health."

Kenna's eyes sparkled and she nodded. "Right. About that..." She dug into her pocket and retrieved a letter addressed to him. "I wrote down a letter to you when we weren't sure you'd ever wake up. I had some blood tests done last week because there was a risk of an infection and I was feeling under the weather because I was throwing up a lot and had terrible sweats."

"And?" Bash asked, taking the letter and opening it to read its contents.

"Why don't you see for yourself?" Kenna asked softly, watching his reaction.

Bash sighed. "You're five weeks pregnant?"

"Six," she corrected. "As of now. Well, six and a couple of days."

"Jesus... Not now..." He muttered, letting go of her hand and rubbing it down his face as he studied the words.

Kenna's face fell. "I'm sorry?"

"Kenna, there's a lot going on," Bash said quietly. "Francis and Mary are preparing for the dauphin or dauphine of France, Francis is going to be king in less than four months, I need to deal with our trial against Antoine Bourbon, I need to recover, you need to recover-"

"Sebastian," Kenna gently called him, taking his hand in hers. "I know. I know everything's a bit crazy and hectic but well, it's happened. I wasn't expecting my estranged husband to stalk me down to Sweden and beg for me to take him back, was I? So, yes I stopped taking birth control in the new year because I was having a detox."

Bash nodded. "Can I think about this?"

"Not what I was expecting to hear..." Kenna mumbled. "I'm going to Versailles, Lola and Greer are coming to help me get there. I'm guessing you're staying for Francis?"

"I am."

"Right, I'll see you later," she said, using her crutches to stand up.

She headed to the door and waited. Waited for him to call her back so they could talk this through but he didn't and she finally left, feeling hurt as she continued out of the room.

"Mckenna."

Kenna stopped in her tracks and turned to face Henry. "Your Majesty," she said breathlessly. "I apologise for what you went through with Lady Penelope. I always knew she was not a respectable woman."

"Well, that's been laid to rest," he said. "Have you seen my son?"

Kenna gave him a tight smile. "I have," she said, suddenly feeling a little faint. "I should get going but I am thankful for what you did for us when... when he was comatose."

"You're welcome but it's Francis you should be thanking and not me," Henry said "Really held the family together. Exactly why he will be king in four months."

"Great decision. Honestly, one of the best you've ever made."

"How would you know that?"

Kenna shrugged a little. "We talked, remember? Before we caused the chain of events leading to my marriage. You were hurting, Henry. Perhaps you should tell someone you love about that."

"I was not hurting," Henry said, his eyes flashing with something Kenna recognised.

"I can read people," Kenna told him. "Us having sex was something you need to discuss with a therapist about. If I'm speaking out of turn, forgive me but it's not every day a monarch abdicates for no reason. Why else do you enjoy the company of younger women after falling in love with an older one and marrying one your age?"

Henry swallowed hard. "Leaving?"

"Versailles," she said.

"I will call a car around."

"No need," she replied. "My father has a personal driver and a few bodyguards for me, Your Majesty. They've been checked and vetted. Forgive me if I do not trust the French team again just yet."

Henry clicked his tongue. "Very well. Good day, Comtessa."

Kenna blinked. "And you, Sir," she said, turning around.

"Mckenna?"

"Yes?" She asked, turning back around.

"Have someone walk you to your car. You look pale," Henry told her, concerned.

She felt dizzy but she planted a smile on her face. "That won't be necessary, Your Majesty. I am perfectly fine." She turned back around and left, keeping her head up high.

...

Mary squinted hard, tutting at herself. "For the love of God..."

"What is it?" Francis asked, entering the dining room with Narcisse. He pressed a kiss on the top of her head and sat down beside her.

Mary stared at her phone. "I can't remember my bloody password for my email and I let my aide take the rest of the day off because she was getting on my damn nerves."

"I will call Angelica," Francis told her.

"Wait," Mary quickly said, attempting a password. "Damn it!"

Francis chuckled. "Pregnancy brain?"

"Be quiet," Mary mumbled before attempting another one. "Yes! Finally!"

"Got it?"

"What do you think?" She asked, beaming happily. "I never use the same password for everything so it gets confusing as hell." She looked up and saw Narcisse. "Hello, Stephane."

Stephane bowed. "Your Royal Highness."

"Why do people keep saying that?"

"Because we're almost in the interregnum," Francis said. "Rights are being granted onto me. I am in control soon and although I won't be king just yet, I'm transitioning."

"Oh," Mary mumbled. "It's different in the UK so I got confused as to why it was being used here when it's almost never."

Francis nodded. "In France, it _is_ reserved for the heir and their spouse usually but recently only during an interregnum for him and his spouse."

"I understand now," she told him before wincing and placing a hand at her lower back. "Jesus."

"What, is it the baby?" Francis asked, leaning into her side in alarm.

"I have back pain," she muttered. "I might need that back massage later on."

Francis grinned. "Will you?"

"Ahem?"

"Oh, Stephane," Francis mumbled. "Monsieur, can you see where my brother is?"

Stephane raised his eyebrow. "Which one, Sir? You have four."

Francis blushed. "Any... one?"

"I will call the one that is _not_ currently wheelchair-bound then," Narcisse said with a knowing smile before leaving. He wasn't going to call any brother.

Francis turned to Mary and kissed her. "I need to work on that."

"You really do," she said with a giggle. "God, I thought I was horny. You literally can't wait until we're alone before you start insinuating what you want to do to me."

"I'm sorry my wife is so goddamn beautiful and that bump is really making things hard for me to bear," he replied. "Sue me."

"Oh, after we sue Antoine, I'm considering it!"

He laughed before sobering up. "About Antoine, we have news that he's pleading not guilty. We obviously knew it was coming, we're preparing for a trial but he's got great lawyers, lawyers who have _never_ lost a case. That's how he could win against all those women he hurt."

Mary sighed. "Well, unfortunately for him, he's going to lose for the first time in his life." She rolled her eyes. "Shouldn't there even be no lawyers for him? He tried to kill two members of a royal family. That's punishable as it stands."

"Yeah, but even he is allowed a fair trial."

"Would they be saying this if they targeted your father?" Mary asked him.

"There won't even be a trial. He'll be sent straight to prison," Francis replied. "On the death penalty, no question about it."

Mary nodded. "What will happen to him?"

"Life imprisonment," Francis said. "But I had some women come forward, his victims and they begged our lawyers to appeal for the death penalty."

"He's destroyed so many lives," Mary replied. "Perhaps it could be an option? He will never learn nor will he repent in prison. He's a lost cause."

"Well, it's not my decision. I'm only Crown Prince, my father is still in power. He says 'no'."

"Then make him say 'yes'," Mary told him.

...

"I'm going to be a father."

Francis broke out into a smile but then it fell when he realised that Bash wasn't smiling about it. "What's wrong?"

"I don't want to be a dad this soon."

"B-But you and Kenna were talking about names and having a family-"

"I was trying to put her mind off the fact that she was bleeding out and dying," Bash cut him off. "And yes, I do want children but I also wanted more time to get to know my wife. _Alone_. A child just distracts us and we won't have any time to be husband and wife. Like, I've been unconscious for most of my marriage, that says something, right?"

Francis nodded. "I get you. That is kind of sad."

"Now, she's mad at me and well, I don't know what to do."

"Where is she?"

"Versailles but she's heading to our home in Paris to see Olenna," Bash replied. "Greer is keeping me updated. She's mad and upset."

Francis crossed his arms. "Simple. Go to her, tell her how excited you are to become a father and thinking about our firstborn children growing up together."

"When you put it like that..." Bash trailed off. "I guess being married actually involves us being actively a part of each other's lives. I don't know, I need time to think about it."

"Hmm," Francis hummed. He sighed. "If I'm honest, I tell you to be excited but I'm terrified."

Bash looked at him in surprise. "You haven't stopped going on about how much you can't wait to be a father."

"Yes, but I will be thrust under a crown when they're born and I will be dragged away on my royal tour," he said. "I will barely have enough time to bond with my newborn child before Mary and I will be whisked around French colonies and other countries as King and Queen."

Bash smiled a little. "You are not the first king to be given the throne so young," he said. "Nor are you the first to have children so young. Our ancestors did it, you can do it too. Who says you can't take a Crown Prince or Princess on tour with you?"

"Dad and my mother kept me here."

"That was then, this is now. You are an adult, you will be king, you can make the rules," Bash replied easily. "Now, about this baby shower."

"You've heard about it?"

"In passing," Bash said. "Some maids were muttering about it. Is it true than men _have_ to be there?"

Francis nodded. "Mary and I are doing things modernly."

"For fuck's sake..."

"There will be alcohol," Francis tried.

"I'm listening..."

"And more alcohol-"

"I'm sold," Bash said. "At least the dress theme is decent and not your usual blue or pink."

Francis smiled. "Again, modern royals."

"Ain't that right?" Bash mumbled. "I'm tired, can you wheel me back inside?"

Francis sighed. "People will think _you're_ going to be king and not me."

"Well, I am your right-hand man."

...

The day of the trial put everyone on edge. Francis woke up, turned to Mary and saw that she was still asleep. She had been doing a lot lately. Visiting centres for abused women, doing her part in showing the world that the French Royal Family did not tolerate abuse. She had also been preparing for their baby shower, she was almost twenty-four weeks gone.

"Mary?" He called her softly, brushing her hair away from her closed eyes.

"A few more minutes," she begged groggily. "I'm so tired."

"I know, baby," he mumbled, kissing her cheek. "It's almost over."

Her eyes opened and she stared into his. "Will Henry be there?"

"No, my father has some things to do," Francis said to her. "Personal matters."

Mary nodded. "What about your mother?"

"Only you, me, Bash, Kenna and our friends will be there," Francis told her. "Although Elisabeth is hellbent on coming. She's been go, go, go since she lost the baby."

"At least she's not drinking like Claude was," Mary mumbled. "How long do we have?"

Francis checked their wall clock. "Two hours until we meet everyone. Six until it starts at one."

"I know that we'll win the case for sure but I never expected that I'd ever go through this," she told her husband, sitting up. "What the hell... We're supposed to be focusing on our baby who will be the dauphin or dauphine of France straight after they're born. I'm not ready for that."

Francis wrapped an arm around her bump. "I wish we had more with things as they are. Bash suggested all of us going on my royal tour, including our baby."

"Seems plausible," Mary muttered. "I thought the honeymoon tour was enough tours for a long time!"

"Oh, don't get me started," Francis told her. "At least you didn't have to go to three back-to-back tours straight out of school."

"That seems tiring."

"It was," he said, yawning. "Imagine being eighteen and touring China, shaking hands with the big players. The food and culture were amazing to enjoy in my downtime but I didn't actually get any rest until we returned home."

Mary sighed. "We won't have it easy, will we? With a baby on top of that... Jesus, Francis."

"It will be our life," Francis said apologetically. "I wasn't expecting to get the throne until I was at least fifty or seventy even. I'm sorry-"

"Never apologise," Mary told him, placing her hand on top of his. He didn't need to, not when she knew the truth. "Our baby's about one and a half pounds now..."

Francis beamed. "Any kicking?"

"Nuh-uh," she said, almost sad. "I'm pretty excited to feel that. My mother said I was a little Football player when she was expecting me."

"Do you _like_ football?"

Mary scoffed. "I really need to show you my photo album from my school years. From Football to Netball and Swimming. Granted, I wasn't the captain of the teams but I was a valued player."

"In the sense that you were benched?" Francis asked with a cheeky grin.

"Francis Valois!" She cried out, blushing. "Only for Swimming though. I was slow and just a seat warmer. Netball was fun. Almost got beaten up in Football."

"How?"

"A little misunderstanding," Mary said. "Kissed one of the opposing girls' boyfriend on the cheek after he begged for a reward after finding Sterling. He ran off you see and he was about to be crushed by a tractor and he saved my dog's life."

Francis tightened his grip a little. "I'm the only one you can kiss."

Mary grinned. "Jealous, are we?"

"What if I am?"

Mary bit her lip seductively. "And if someone were to kiss _me_, what would you do?"

"I'd kiss you and make love to you right in front of them. Show them who you really belong to," he said, getting on top of her but using his arms to lift his frame so he didn't crush her bump.

Mary smirked. "You own me?"

Francis choked. "Uh, I mean-Well-I-"

"I'm just a possession?" She asked, her fingers trailing his neck. "Something to be used?"

"N-No-"

"And no one can have me? Just you?"

"Well, y-yes-"

She nipped at his ear before rolling onto his side and getting out of the bed from there. "Men," she muttered, shaking her head with a grin and a roll of her eyes.

"Mary, I didn't mean-"

But she shut the bathroom door on him.

...

"Need help with that?"

Bash turned and faced his wife, nodding. "Please, if you don't mind."

Kenna entered the bedroom, using a crutch to close the door before the security guard took over anyway. She hobbled over, leaning her crutches beside the armchair before helping Bash into his shirt and then his suit jacket.

"Ready to face him?" He asked her, lifting his perfume bottle up and spraying it.

"No," Kenna mumbled. "It's not him I'm not ready to face. It's you. You never got back to me."

Bash sighed, gesturing for her to take a seat as he walked over to the drinks bar. Courtesy of his father and he most certainly wasn't complaining. He was too sober for all of this, he needed to drink the whole three months of his life away. Apart from his marriage, of course.

"I know we keep coming back to this," he said, pouring two drinks. He picked one up and handed it to her before grabbing his own drink as his other arm was in a sling. "But we barely know each other as it is and throwing a baby into the mix...?"

Kenna drank half of her drink. "I understand. Should I get rid of it?"

"God, no! I would never ask you to do that," Bash said, alarmed. "This is _our_ baby, I won't let anything happen to them."

Kenna gasped, tears springing to her eyes. "You're fine with it?"

"I'll have to be," he said lightly. "I thought we'd have kids a few years down the line when we've explored the world together, be just you and me but we can still do that. _With_ a beautiful baby in the mix."

She smiled brightly. "Now, I don't feel as shit-" She glanced down at what she was holding. "Shit."

"Oh," Bash said, taking the drink. "I'm so sorry. I didn't think. It's today, my mind's everywhere-"

She blushed, gagging. "It's fine. honestly, I don't think it would be too bad," she said rubbing her neck. "Is God sure, making us parents?"

He laughed, downing the rest of her drink. "I think we'll be fine," he said before sobering up. "I need to tell you something."

"Go ahead," she said, lifting her leg onto the ottoman to get comfortable.

"You've heard of Antoine's sister? Madeleine Bourbon or-"

"Van Houten," Kenna finished. "Yes. She was at Francis's and Mary's wedding and had a _long_ conversation with me over drinks."

Bash frowned. "You never told me you spoke to my cousin."

"Well, that was before we knew her brother was a psychopath. Honestly, you guys should have told us what he did before I jumped into bed with him," Kenna said, crossing her arms. "She was nice, very kind. Kept asking me about how our relationship."

"Well, before you freak out, I have to say that we didn't know who the other was-"

"Where is this getting at?"

Bash winced. "We slept together."

"Well, you're not the first royals to sleep with your cousins," Kenna replied nonchalantly. "I kissed the grandkid of my dad's father's third sister. We lived in a small town in Scotland and I was four."

Bash laughed a little. "But you weren't fully consenting adults, weren't you?"

Kenna shrugged. "Meh. I don't care about the past, lover. I care about the future, the one we have with our baby."

Bash stood from his seat and knelt down beside her seat. "When this trial is over, you and I will go to Sweden. Straight after."

"You like whisking me off on impromptu journeys, don't you?" She asked with a grin. "I'd love to but I'm helping Mary and Francis plan their baby shower with Lola and Greer."

"After the baby shower then," he said. "I just need some time with just you and me. No siblings, no fathers, no whatever else, just you and me."

She brought his hand to her tummy. "And Baby too."

"If he _really_ must come."

"He?"

Bash grinned. "I-I don't mind."

"That's what I thought," she replied, chuckling. "Imagine it. Francis and Mary with their son and us with our little girl."

"Between you and me, I think France will have her first sovereign queen," Bash told her.

"Have you seen the gender result?" Kenna asked, eyes wide.

Bash shook his head. "My father said he saw it in his dream or something crazy like that. But I actually believe him. France's first Queen Regnant. Isn't that exciting?"

"Well, I think we've been a terrible uncle and aunt," she told him. "Name suggestions for the future _dauphine_. 'Rachel'."

"No, they're more likely to choose 'Sébastienne'. It's a strong name. I was named after the early Christian saint and martyr, Saint Sebastian. She could be too!" Bash told her.

Kenna gaped. "No. No... Just, no." She giggled. "Oh, God and don't you _dare_ consider that name for _our_ child."

"You've just insulted my mother's uncle, Sebastian and my great-great uncle, Sébastien, and my great-great-great-grandfather, Basti-"

"I get it and all respect to the long line of Sebastian de Poitierses, but I'm the one carrying this baby for nine months, _not them_. Not that they ever did for their wives either," she said.

A knock on the door stopped their laughing and Michel peeked his head inside.

"The car has arrived," he told them. "Do you need help, Com-_Duchess_?"

Kenna turned to Bash. "I think he wishes he could lift me into his big, strong arms but... I'll have to settle for ripped Michel instead."

"Mckenna!" Bash cried out.

"What?" She asked innocently as Michel entered the bedroom. "It hurts me more than it hurts you, mon amour!" She grinned when Michel lifted her into his arms easily. "Take me downstairs, gorgeous."

...

"That was exciting," Greer said quietly. "Being taken inside by the back entrance."

Lola cringed. "I never knew that there would be so many reporters. Apparently, there's a lot from outside of France."

"It's an important trial," Mary told them, taking Francis's hand nervously as she searched for Kenna and Bash who were witnesses.

They were seated in the royal box, reserved for the Royal Family should needs be. Remy, Julien and Leith entered with Leith's sunglasses on his face and a deep frown. Everyone turned to him and he blushed.

"I drank a little bit too much," he said. "Pre-celebrating."

"Don't jinx things," Francis said, squeezing Mary's hand when she used the nails of her other one to dig into her palm. He leant to whisper into her ear, "Everything will be fine. Release your grip."

She did as told and looked down to see the red curves her nails made on her palm. "Damn it," she mumbled, feeling it sting. "I'm sorry."

"No, don't be," Francis told her. "You're human. This box is tinted, by the way."

Mary sighed in relief. "Thank God. I can't deal with the judge looking at me as if I'm crazy with the faces I'm probably going to pull. That and this is recording live purposes _and_ for future referral. Dear God, let everything go as planned..."

"Everything will go as planned," Francis assured his wife.

Mary sighed. "I know. My hormones are just freaking out," she mumbled. "I don't feel comfortable and my back is killing me."

"I could send someone to get a pillow?"

"Oh, my love," Mary said. "If you don't mind?"

Francis grinned. "We're the future King and Queen of France, will anyone deny you a pillow for your back or discomfort?"

Mary giggled, shaking her head. "Thank you. That will really help."

After a while of waiting, the judge arrived and so did the defendant, shackled by the legs and wrists as he wore a sharp suit and smiled indifferently. Mary glared at the back of his head through the glass and he turned, looking up at the tinted box, sending a wink to them. She felt her hand being held tightly and she placed a hand on Francis's forearm.

"Arsehole," Julien muttered darkly.

"Thinking the same thing," his brother said, turning to the couple. "If only we could strangle him with our bare hands..."

"Now, now, gentlemen," Greer said. "Play nicely."

They were in for a long day.


	19. Very Compatible Indeed

**Quote of the chapter: "The difference between sex and love is that sex relieves tension and love causes it." ― Woody Allen.**

* * *

Antoine's lawyer, Kiana Baptiste, eyed Kenna before turning to the judge. "I call the plaignant, the Duchess of Orléans, to the stand."

Kenna raised an eyebrow and clicked her tongue, thankfully smiling at the police officer who helped her to the stand. She took her time, she was in no rush and made sure the jury saw what he did to her and her husband.

She sat down and placed her hand onto the Bible the clerk presented her with.

"Do you solemnly swear that you will tell the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth, so help you God?"

Kenna cleared her throat before saying, "I swear by Almighty God that the evidence I shall give shall be the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth."

Baptiste turned to Kenna. "May I just be clear, you _are_ the Duchess of Orléans, wife to King Henry VI's eldest son, Prince Sébastien?"

"I am," Kenna confirmed.

"So, you signed the registers before your wedding was cut _short_," Baptiste stated.

"I did. It's customary for the papers to be signed before the vows," Kenna replied.

Baptiste nodded. "That is true. So, the night you left France on the 24th of December 2019, you took a flight to Sweden?"

"That is correct," Kenna said, knowing where this was going.

"Is there anyone in the courtroom that you saw and interacted with on that plane?"

"Yes," Kenna said.

"Who?"

"The defendant," Kenna replied.

Baptiste smiled. "And you and Monsieur Bourbon shared a few drinks? Talked?"

Kenna sighed. "We shared a bottle of alcohol. Talked about random things."

"And following the flight to Sweden, you both went to a hotel?"

"We did."

"Where you had sexual intercourse?"

"Yes," Kenna said, strained. The room was suddenly becoming hotter.

Baptiste had the jury turn to the evidence screen where the timeline of Kenna and Antoine was shown. "So, you committed adultery, married to the King of France's son, no less."

"Objection!" Kenna and Bash's attorney, Bardin, cried out.

"On what grounds?" The judge asked.

"The Duchess's marriage to His Highness is not relevant in the case that they were estranged," Bardin said. "Separated even. Relations, when the couple were not together, do not count. You are damaging my client's character by assumption."

The judge turned to Baptiste. "Is this getting somewhere?"

"It is, Your Honour," she said.

"Overruled."

Kenna mentally cursed, seeing Bash shake his head in slight discomfort and annoyance.

"How can a happy couple become separated on the day they marry?" Baptiste asked rhetorically. "Prince Sébastien might have found out that his beloved fiancée and now wife had relations with other men and decided to end their relationship-"

"Objection, she is making guesses!" Bardin said.

"Sustained," the judge said. "Madame Baptiste, _is this getting somewhere_?"

Baptiste smiled. "Let me rephrase. Duchess Mckenna, is this," she began, turning everyone's attention to the screen where she was entering a hotel. "You?"

"Yes," Kenna said.

"And have you met this," Baptiste began, pointing to the screen. "Man?"

Kenna squinted at the screen. Noting who it was. "Yes."

The man was an expensive goods handler and she had been wanting to get some new one of a kind pair of heels.

"And you left, say, an hour later?"

"I did. We had finished a business deal," Kenna said.

"Would that business deal happen to involve sex?"

"No-"

"This man went on tape to confirm that he and the Duchess had sexual relations. He said she paid him to keep quiet-"

"What?!"

"Said that she threatened him, sent him to her under the guise of a business deal involving some limited edition Louboutin high heels."

"That is _not_ true!" Kenna cried out.

"Duchess Mckenna, calm yourself down!" The judge ordered.

Kenna stared in disbelief, her eyes landing on Antoine as he smirked. She scoffed, shaking her head.

"You had consenting sex with Monsieur Bourbon _and_ Monsieur Duval," Baptiste stated. She went over to her desk and collected a photograph of a car. "Permission to approach the witness stand?"

"Granted," the judge replied.

Baptiste gave the photo to Kenna. "Recognise the vehicle?"

"It's the vehicle that ran my husband and me off the road," Kenna said tersely.

"So you recognise the number plate?"

Kenna sighed. "I do."

"And who does the vehicle belong to that you know of?"

"Monsieur Duval," Kenna whispered.

"We did not get that. Can you repeat, s'il vous plaît?"

Kenna cleared her throat. "Monsieur Duval," she said, louder.

Baptiste nodded and returned to her desk to retrieve more photographs to show her. "And these photographs, can you explain what they mean?"

Kenna gasped when she saw that they were the threats and photos taken of her. "These were done by Antoine Bourbon. I rejected him after we slept together and he began threatening to kill me-"

"Do you recognise this?" Baptiste asked, placing down a new photograph.

Kenna paled. "I-I-"

"For the jury, the screen shows words written on a mirror with lipstick. Crass words, 'slut', 'whore', 'ugly'. All written by the Duchess against herself. Can you confirm that is your handwriting, Your Ladyship?"

"It is," Kenna confirmed.

Kenna swallowed deeply, bowing her head. Room service came to attend to her room as she headed to the bar for a drink that night before she returned to her room and texted Bash. They must have not been room service at all.

"Did you or did you not write those words?" Baptiste asked her.

"I did," Kenna said, her voice breaking. "I did."

Baptiste nodded, directing everyone back to the screen. "She left that hotel in a hurry. Once it was searched and prepared for the next guests, staff found materials in the safe of the room that were used to form all of these 'threats' and 'warnings'. There was a camera, camera stand and the camera had settings on a timer."

Mary gasped. _They're lying! This is not true!_ She turned to Francis fearfully, everyone looking as horrified and shocked as the other. They knew it was all lies, that they were planted.

"I did not do those-"

"We managed to receive medical records from Scotland," Baptiste said, turning to the judge. "Duchess Mckenna has a history of mental health. She was treated at a private institution for six weeks in 2016 when she was seventeen. Her doctors had called her 'unstable' and a 'risk to herself'."

Kenna's eyes met Bash's and he looked at her in confusion. She wanted to say that it was only because of how bad her bulimia got but it wasn't as severe afterwards. She was not a risk to herself, she just let her illness control her back then, almost collapsing daily and feeling faint and she had malnutrition. She hadn't meant to lie about seeking treatment for her illness, she thought he'd see her differently if he knew the truth.

"She has concocted a story about how my client ran her and her husband off the road because she was too ashamed to tell His Highness the truth," Baptiste said. "That she had relations with other men following their wedding day and one of those men, Monsieur Duval was the reason why she had knee and spine surgery and her husband was comatose for over a month. I rest my case."

Kenna covered her face, willing the tears to not come.

"Fuck," she whispered.

...

"Cousin!" Antoine cried out, bringing Bash in for a tight hug. "I am so happy that you are better. We were all so worried and I am glad that justice has been served." He laughed. "Imagine being arrested on your holiday!"

Just as he was about to pull back, Bash kept his hold with his arm around Antoine's neck tightly and he whispered into his ear, "I will kill you. I will make sure they won't even find the damn body."

Antoine pulled back and gave him a bright smile. "I missed you too," he said, tapping Bash's cheek.

Bash stepped back from his grip and he, Francis and their friends watched as Madeleine came to stand beside her brother, a polite but strained smile on her face.

Antoine kissed her cheek and she flinched. "My baby sister, always on my side and there for me. Shame Louis couldn't enjoy all of this. He and his new fiancée went out of the country for some wedding planning in England. But dear old Maddie..."

Madeleine swallowed deeply, averting her eyes from her brother's gaze as she rubbed at a bruise on her wrist. Bash studied her and realised what was going on. She falsified the evidence, she was a part of it all along.

"You bitch," he breathed out. "Not that I expected anything less. You Bourbons disgust me."

Leith spat at their feet. "When everyone realises the truth, your family will be brought down. Disgraces, the lot of you."

Elisabeth and Claude walked up to them, turning to their brothers in disbelief.

"It's true?" Elisabeth asked, scowling at Antoine and his sister.

"It's over," Francis whispered.

"Where's Kenna?" Claude asked.

Bash turned to them. "I sent her home. Mary's with her." He looked at Antoine. "I didn't want her to be more distressed than needed."

"You won't get away with it," Lissie told Antoine. "It's time someone put you Bourbons in place and we will sure as hell make you a damn example."

Antoine grinned. "I'd like to see you try," he said before grabbing Madeleine's arm and walking off with her stumbling after him.

"Something good came out of today," Francis said. "We know his weakness."

"And that is?" Julien asked.

"Madeleine," Bash said before walking towards his car.

...

"Kenna, please!"

"I have to get out of here, Mary," Kenna told her, stuffing her clothes into her suitcase. "You know what? Forget it. I have money, I can buy new clothes-"

"So what if everyone knows that you were admitted to a mental health clinic?" Mary asked her. "No one cares, everybody who matters loves you."

Kenna bit her lip, tears threatening to fall down her cheeks. "It was hell for me. Since I was fourteen, I've been through hell. Do you wonder why I drink? It's to lessen the pain. Do you wonder why I keep buying things that don't matter?! It's to lessen the fucking pain!" She screamed. "I buy shoes, clothes, jewellery and nothing dulls the pain. I don't feel like anything is worth it. Not like Bash is. Now, Bash, he gets me. He helps and now, all he'll see is something that he will constantly have to keep building so I don't collapse and give up!"

"What about your music? Your freedom-"

"Music? I remember our school forcing us to play the piano for six hours one Saturday, Mary," Kenna retorted. "Music is just a pastime, it's not going to help me recover or whatever." She sighed, sitting down. "I thought that Antoine would be locked up or whatever and I'll be safe. I'll be able to give my child everything because I don't want them to have a broken mother. Someone to be ashamed of and not look up to..."

Mary sat down beside and took her hands. "We will handle Antoine," Mary promised her. "We can ask for a retrial, we just need evidence that he planted everything."

"Impossible."

"Not if we put our minds to it." Mary tutted. "Henry will help. He said that he will do this if this is the last thing he does." She looked around to make sure they were alone in the vicinity even though they were in Kenna's home. "Henry appealed for the death penalty as we were in court. It was successful. If we can get Antoine back to jail, he'll be gone. For good."

Kenna nodded. "What if we can't?"

"Then, we'll ignore him. Show him he can't break us," Mary replied. "Men like him won't get that far. He'll have his downfall one day."

Kenna wrapped her arms around Mary. "I wish we could drink."

"Lord knows I need a drink," Mary said with a chuckle. "Shall we settle for sparkling water instead?"

"Yeah."

"And finish planning my baby shower? We need something to look forward to," Mary replied. "Something to forget about all of this."

Kenna nodded her response.

"Good," Mary said. "Right, so I was thinking we could all wear rose gold..."

...

Henry sighed heavily when he saw his niece in the hospital bed. "Let me guess, Antoine?"

Madeleine nodded shakily. "My husband's at home, I couldn't face it calling him to France."

"So you called me? After what you did to my family?"

"I had to!" Madeleine cried out. "He... He's always been able to have a hold on me. I don't know how. Trust me, I've tried to not let him get to me but he threatened my husband and-"

"Did you plant the evidence in my son's wife's room?"

Madeleine shook her head. "Antoine paid someone to. He had to cover his tracks after he ran them off the road. He also paid off that store clerk or whatever he was that met Mckenna."

"Accessory to attempted murder, Madeleine," Henry snapped. "What have you done, you stupid girl?"

"I'm sorry! Tell Bash that-"

"I won't tell him anything," Henry told her. "Right now, all he needs to think about is his wife. His wife whose character was destroyed more than it had been already. His attorney went through her _medical files_. That's sick."

Madeleine swallowed deeply, wincing when her black eye stung. "I know. I didn't know he'd do that to her. I didn't know that the case laid on destroying her witness account. I thought your prosecuting team were _excellent_."

"Not when evidence was being forged, Madeleine!"

"What can I do? Fight him?" She asked, eyes wide. "He'll hurt me just as he did when we were kids. He used to break my fingers, sprain my wrists, snap my ankle, little things like that. He practised on me and moved on to women he slept with."

"Did he ever-"

"No," she said. "He wasn't that crazy that he'd partake in incest."

"Good," Henry said with a sigh of relief. "Madeleine, you must tell the truth. Your brother must be stopped."

Madeleine swallowed deeply. "One condition."

"Depends."

"Full immunity," she said. "For me. When he's arrested and dealt with and the retrial is over, you make sure I get back to the Netherlands safely."

Henry nodded. "I will make that happen."

"I'm truly sorry."

"Well, I'm sorry too," Henry mumbled, retrieving his recorder. "I'll make sure you get the full immunity if you can provide us with evidence of your brother's wrongdoings."

Madeleine gripped onto the sheet covering her legs. "Yes, Your Majesty."

"Good," he said, ending the recording. "Get better. I will see if my son and his wife will grant you an audience so you can ask them for forgiveness."

"Anything," she whispered. "Anything to stop him from hating me."

"What does he matter?"

Madeleine shrugged. "Nothing but he cared about me once. I just want him to be happy."

Henry narrowed his eyes suspiciously before he left, nodding at the guards he stationed outside her room. They were sourced from Holland, so Antoine wasn't suspicious of them.

When he got to his car at the back entrance of the hospital, he handed the recorder to Remy.

"You said you had a friend?" The King asked.

"Julien does, Sir," Remy said. "I'll make sure this goes through the proper channels. Anything for Bash and Kenna."

"You're a good friend," Henry mumbled, telling the driver to drive on. "Hopefully, by next week, Antoine will be served the peine de mort."

Remy nodded. "By God's grace, Sir." He set his jaw. "Antoine Bourbon made the mistake of trusting his family."

"And very soon, he'll find that out."

...

"Louis Valois, where are you?" Claude sang, looking under tables and in various rooms at Versailles.

She sighed, he'd taken to hiding a lot and she hoped nothing was wrong with him. He tended to suffer in silence, making his older siblings worried about his safety at times.

"LouLou!" She cried out, getting slightly worried now.

She had left him for an hour in front of the TV. He refused to leave Francis and Mary's sides so had been granted stay at Versailles along with Claude and Margo. Lissie had returned to Fontainebleau, Claude never knew why she was at Versailles in the first place.

"Have you seen the Duke of Urbino?" Claude asked two passing guards. "About this," she began, putting her hand to her hip. "High and full of energy with blonde hair everywhere like a yapping dog?"

"Non, Madamoiselle," the first guard said.

"Try the kitchens. The Dauphin normally treats him to some lemon and strawberry tarts," the second one suggested.

Claude grinned. "You two are étoiles!"

She hurried downstairs and headed to the kitchens, finding one blonde child stuffing his face with tarts, jam all over his cheeks and forehead as the baker chuckled and the chefs enjoyed his excited chatter.

"LouLou!" Claude cried out in relief, grabbing a kitchen towel to clean his face up and bop his nose. "Hello, Gorgeous! Why did you run off?"

"Le monstre was on the screen!" Louis told her, the nine-year-old's eyes wide.

Claude giggled. "You're so silly! It's Hotel Transylvania, they're all monsters!" She helped him down from the table. "Come on, let's leave these lovely people in peace."

Everyone waved them off and she beamed, holding Louis's hand as they headed back upstairs. Claude blushed, thinking how motherly she was acting. She did want kids one day, but there was the big thing that she hadn't come out to the rest of the family. Only Mary, Francis and her father knew and Lord knew what Catherine de Medici would say about that.

But on the other hand, she did like men. She had dated a few but nothing was exciting or _right_ until she had her secret girlfriend who left the country after her parents got new jobs in the States.

"Claude Annette Léona Valois," a male voice said from behind her.

Claude gasped and turned to face her ex-boyfriend and son of her father's courtier, Luc Narcisse.

"Luca?"

"_Luc_," he said, grinning. "We're not together anymore, you don't need to say my government name."

Claude giggled, placing her hands on Louis's shoulders. "Hey."

"Hi."

She blushed. "It's been too long."

"It has," he agreed. "Two years since you dumped me for a gi-"

"Two years, yes," she quickly said, nervously looking around. "How have you been?"

Luc nodded. "I've been well. Uh, my father is training me into the family business, royal courtier. I'm supposed to be shadowing the future king but he's not around."

"Oh, they're in Paris," Claude said. "I think you heard about what happened?"

Luc scowled. "That bastard," he muttered before blushing and eyeing Louis. "Uh, I mean-"

"It's fine!" Louis giggled. "I won't tell anyone!"

Claude nodded, chuckling. "He's got our backs. You can swear as much as you can in front of him," she said, squeezing her little brother's cheeks. "Anyway, so Francis is with Sébastien and Mckenna."

"Right," Luc said. "I'll get back to Font-"

"Stay," Claude said. "I need to ask you about the Duke of Auvergne."

She did her background search on the man, he was good friends with Luc, the men being two years older than her, the same age as Francis. He was into guys and his parents didn't know, no one really knew except Claude who learnt this after getting drunk one night with Luc.

She had to see if she could secure a marriage request from him, so they will have heirs to the Auvergne legacy and Valois one too and be content in a secret open marriage. They'd both be free to see other people.

"Charles 'Enzo' Bechard? As in my _friend_, the Duke of Auvergne, Enzo Bechard?" He asked, incredulously.

"Oui, did I stutter?" She snapped.

Luc smirked. "Your parents want to marry you off?"

"They do," she admitted.

"And his parents have been looking for three years now," he stated.

"Have they?" She asked coyly.

"A French princess, huh," Luc said, smiling a little. "I'll see if I can set things up for you."

Claude sighed in relief. "Oh, Luc, you're-"

"At a price."

"What?"

"Cover your little brother's ears," he said.

She did as told. "What is your price?"

Luc smiled. "Remember the night we spent at Deauville Beach?"

"How could I?" She asked, becoming flustered. "It was my first time."

He bowed his head a little, clearing his throat. "If you want to spend the rest of your life in a content marriage to Enzo, go ahead. But for the past year, I've not been able to stop thinking about you and what we had."

"What we had was very brief-"

"What we had was _magical_, Claude," Luc cut her off, looking around to see if they were alone. "You may like girls now, but I know we had something great."

Claude's hands were becoming sweaty from their positions over Louis's ears. She nodded. "Meet me there tonight at eleven. Bring a towel, I'm not looking forward to cleaning sand from places they don't belong."

"Claude, I'm not asking you for sex-"

"One night, Luca," she said firmly. "I want to see if you're still... _good_."

"We only had the one time!" Luc laughed.

"But obviously, we've both been with other people," she told him. "Let's see if you can... still excite me."

Luc grinned. "Challenge accepted."

...

"Francis," Mary moaned the minute his lips attacked her neck when they closed the door. "What has got into you?" She giggled, moving his head so their lips met instead.

"Nothing," he breathed out against her lips. "My wife is just so damn beautiful. That dress is doing wonders for you."

Mary beamed. "When you put it like that..." Her lips moulded with his again and he let out a soft sigh of relief, his hands gripping onto her hips as hers entwined into his hair.

"I love you," he whispered.

"I love you too," she replied before her lips stopped moving at the sound of knocking on their door.

They quickly fixed themselves before Francis opened the door to let Mr Jones inside.

"Your Royal Highnesses," he greeted them with a bow. "The Queen told Angelica to tell me to tell you that a documentary based on the royal baby will commence tomorrow morning."

"What?!" The couple said.

"Yes," Mr Jones said, wincing. "She believed that diverting people's attention away from the lost case would be a good idea. This documentary will follow your baby shower event, labour and birth and the child's christening. It's King Henry's first grandchild, everyone is in tenterhooks."

"Well, tell them to fu-"

"We'll do it," Francis cut his wife off with a sigh. "Anything to shift away from the bad press."

Mary scoffed before nodding in agreement. "Fine."

"We control what happens," Francis told her. "Anything _we_ want will be the narrative."

"Very well, Sir," Jones said. "I will return at two in the morning for your daily vitamin drink."

Francis saw him out and Mary cursed, heading to their bed. They couldn't believe it, the last thing they needed was a camera shoved into their faces 24/7. But then again, it would stop the increasing abuse Kenna was getting _and_ Bash for marrying her in the first place.

"I'm sure my mother couldn't have thought of something else-"

"I wanted this to be _our_ baby before they'd join the line of succession," Mary said sadly. "I wanted to feel the excitement and happiness between us. Now, every little moment will be documented down and we'd have to fake our reactions."

Francis joined her, bringing her to sit down. "Don't worry. As I said, we will control everything that goes into this. They won't take this away from us. Let them try and overrule the King of France."

Mary smiled a little. "I guess your father stepping down was a good thing... You can say 'no' whenever they piss me off."

"Rightly so."

"And if they piss me off, will you-" Mary gasped, taking his hand and placing it onto her bump.

"Mary?"

"Shh!" She whispered, a smile growing on her face when she saw his eyes widen in awe as their child kicked. "Do you feel that?"

He nodded, tears springing to his eyes. "T-That's the first time we've felt our baby." He knelt down in front of her and eyed her bump. "Hi, Baby. It's your papa. Mon Dieu, you're so perfect and I haven't even seen you."

Mary laughed through her own tears, cupping his cheek lovingly. "Moments like this one, we keep to ourselves. Even if they're kicking so hard during a public event, we'll save it for when we're together. Our perfect, little family."

Francis grinned. "We may not have a white picket fence, but we have a dog and a golden toilet."

"_Wait_, what?" Mary asked, intrigued.

"It's at Fontainebleau. My father's quarters. I remember Lissie and I sneaking to use it once. Wasn't all that exciting-"

"It's a golden throne for a king!"

"Well, a toilet is a toilet-"

"It's gold!"

"It's _cold_," Francis said. "Honestly, I'm hyping it up too much. It's a boring old toilet and well, there."

Mary laughed. "I seriously need a big tour of Fontainebleau."

"You'll get it," her husband said with a chuckle. "I guess I _should_ enlighten your mind to the fact that we have a secret zoo-"

"Now, you're taking the piss."

"Nuh-uh," he said, starting to take off his clothes as she watched him, one amused eyebrow up. "I'll show you, you might even see them within the stars you're going to see by the time we're done."

Mary's lips met his desperately.

...

Bash entered the room, nodding thanks to Rita who helped open the door for him as he held a tray between the crook of his elbow. He went over to the table in the corner of the room and turned on the main lights.

"How are you feeling?" He asked as the door closed.

"How do you think?" Kenna snapped.

He sighed. "You need to eat."

"I'm not hungry-"

"The baby needs to eat."

Kenna grabbed a pillow and covered her face, settling back into the bed. "Go away."

"I'm not mad," Bash said. "I understand why you kept that from me. I'm just surprised-"

"About what?" She asked, throwing the pillow onto the floor and sitting up to look at him. "Surprised that someone who _looks_ like they can hold it together was admitted to a mental health hospital at seventeen?"

Bash cringed, walking up to the bed. "What Antoine did was disgusting. I would have preferred you to tell me in your own time if not at all. Your life is your life. I don't tell you things, why should I expect to know things from your past? All I know is that I love you, Kenna. You're a pretty decent person beneath the vanity and the fake persona you put on to make yourself likeable and seductive. You're quirky, you like singing at ungodly hours to yourself, you smile when you hear birdsong, you sneeze like a mouse, your humour is top level, you have great taste in alcohol, fashion and everything else and most of all, you're you."

Kenna smiled a little. "So, you don't think less of me?"

"Not at all," Bash said. "And I don't care what the media says about you. Even if they are telling the truth or not, I see you. They're not married to you, I am and I have the proof to show it. If anyone has something to say about you or me, then they can fuck right off."

"Thank God our baby doesn't have ears," she said lightly.

"Trust me, you'll be saying worse when I get into that bed," he replied.

She blushed. "Let me eat first."

"Ah-ha, so I am convincing," Bash said, grabbing the tray and bringing over to her.

"Sit down," she told him, gesturing to the space beside her feet.

"You want to eat, don't you?" He asked.

She giggled, biting into the pasta. "You're serious, aren't you?"

"You're glowing and I will make sure you feel loved until your other leg stops working."

"_Knee_," she corrected him.

He chuckled, remembering a memory. "Oh, right?" He kissed her lips and went over to the fireplace to light it. "I mean it. You won't be walking at all. _You'll_ need the wheelchair."

"Don't be so sure about that," she replied sultrily. "I'll make sure both of your arms don't work."

Bash laughed, turning his head to send her a wink. "Forget about Antoine. He's being dealt with."

"How?"

"Peine de mort has been banned for over a decade but that changes today for certain crimes," Bash told her. "All cases viable for peine de mort will have to be not shown by the head judge but by the ruling monarch. Only they can select and reject cases and well, as my father and brother both despise Antoine, regardless of who is control, Antoine Bourbon will be served the death penalty."

Kenna gasped. "You're lying."

"When have I ever lied to you?" Bash asked, finishing up with the fireplace and walking back to the bed. "I mean it, Kenna, forget about him. All you should think about is shopping for an outfit for this baby shower we both have to attend."

She bit her bottom lip, a smile breaking out onto her face. "No guy has ever got a man to be killed lawfully for me."

"Well, that only happens when you marry a prince."

"I thought you weren't a prince?" Kenna asked, placing the tray onto her bedside table.

Bash tutted. He walked right into that one. "Well, things changed."

"Come here," she said, beckoning him over with a finger. "The pasta tastes disgusting anyway, I want a taste for something else. Something more... like a prince."

"How do you want him?"

"À la mode," she replied, picking up the tub of ice cream he had got for her for dessert.

Bringing his fingers to his top button, he said, "Coming right up."


	20. Growing Pains

**Replies to reviews:**

**the girl with the silver arrow [chapter 19]: Just want to tell you, thank you so much! Your review brought a smile to my face as everyone else's does as well. I'm glad I inspired you again to get back into writing. I love your story, Queen In Waiting (everyone, go and check it out for those Kennash lovers!) and I followed it prior to it being stopped and now I was so happy to see that you continued it again! I have read it and awaiting on the next chapter (I sneak a few chapters in between uni lectures, hehe, don't tell my lecturers!) and I love it! The angst, the back and forth, you are a great writer and don't feel like once you've hit a roadblock, you can't ever go back. Find your inspiration again and get those creative juices flowing because you're damn talented! With the modernisation and the French culture, I've been inspired by one of my newest best friends in real life who is a real French badass and she gives me ideas every day in regards to the language. I am fluent in English (born and raised), German and a little fluent in Spanish so I was hoping to get onto the French bandwagon and I'm enjoying it a lot. Now, I'm speaking as if I'm the French one in our friendship group, haha. And as Reign is set in France, I found it very fitting and it allows me to create this French/English hybrid of goodness for everyone whilst staying true to my writing style. Other fandoms like Game of Thrones and Hunger Games, I don't really challenge myself and I get writer's block but this, Reign? You guys give me ideas and enjoy it when I spin it into something you love reading. I've never seen such a supportive fanbase and we all uplift each other. Stay true to yourself and thank _you_ for supporting me!**

**I answered a review! Don't really get that many so I tend to leave them out but occasionally, I love replying to you guys! Thanks so much. As for ATEOTB, I've got a cheeky, little chapter in the works ;). Warning, there will be a lot of sexual frustration ;).**

****Quote of the chapter: "It is not God's will merely that we should be happy, but that we should make ourselves happy." - Immanuel Kant.****

* * *

March was much happier in France. The Antoine Bourbon case put to rest after Madeleine outed him and was shunned for good out of the Bourbon family. The Valoises welcomed her with open arms but she returned to the Netherlands to be comforted by her husband after receiving forgiveness from Bash and begrudgingly Kenna.

The couple were intending to keep their baby news to themselves (and Francis and Mary), deciding to divide their time between Sweden, Scotland and France to get away from all of the drama. Mary didn't blame them, the media tore Kenna apart and the woman almost had a breakdown in public before the royal security guards ushered her into a car and drove off. That happened just when she was buying an outfit for the baby shower which would take place on the 20th of March, three days before Bash's birthday to which Bash and Kenna were spending in Portugal from the 21st.

By the middle of the month, Mary was surprised by two marriage proposals. One, not so much. She expected that but not this soon. The other was confusing but understandable for her after she privately learnt of the circumstances revolving the marriage.

Remy and Lola were going to stay at the Varga estate to let her get to know his family (including his stern uncle) with her own family coming to join them over the course of the wedding planning. To not overshadow the other wedding announcement, they decided to get married in the later months of the following year.

As for the second proposal, Claude seemed liberated after telling Mary and Francis of her plans to marry Charles Bechard. It was what both she and Enzo wanted and they seemed comfortable and happy despite how quick everything was between them. Claude wanted to marry quickly but everyone, including her parents, were wary as there was an order in which the royal children should be married.

Until Margaret and Elisabeth could find appropriate suitors and Lissie got married first _at least_, Claude could get married early the following year from that wedding taking place. One royal wedding per year unless it was Francis and Bash who were long overdue on marrying or were the Dauphin and heir to the throne and legacy.

"These baby documentary and wedding announcements are really making things brighter for the family," Mary was saying to Greer as the blonde helped her get dressed for a dinner event with the Prime Minister and his wife to get him backing Francis as he should when the male blonde took the reins officially.

"Glad to know," Greer mumbled, struggling to pull up the zip.

Mary's eyes watered. "Tell me it fits. Every other option looked terrible."

"Babies grow, Mary dear. There is no denying that you look _pregnant_. Don't worry, I will find you something," Greer said, heading into the walk-in wardrobe. "Has Leith said anything about marriage to you or Francis?"

Mary sat down at her vanity, putting her hair up. "Not really. Why?"

"Mary..."

Mary wiped her tears, letting out a smirk. "Jealous of Lola, are you?"

"You are all married or engaged and he barely bats an eyelid when I am around," Greer said, frustrated as she returned with a black number. "Maybe Valentine's Day scared him off."

Mary raised a coy eyebrow. "What happened?"

Greer sighed heavily, gesturing for the Dauphine to stand so she could pull the dress up from the ground over her frame. "We had sex, Mary."

Mary gasped, slipping the sleeves on. She beamed when the zip went up easily. "Thank God for bodycon dresses, they stretch _beautifully_." She twirled around in front of the mirror, spotting Greer's sad eyes. "I'm sure he likes you. Give him time, he's getting over their Army days and whatever else he and the boys do that involve drugs, alcohol and smoking."

Greer grinned. "At least they've cut down."

"For now," Mary said lightly. "Come on, walk me down."

They headed downstairs and spotted Francis laughing with an old, blonde man who wore a grey suit with a purple tie and matching purple socks and grey brogues. He was smartly dressed, pocket handkerchief and everything as he animatedly spoke to Francis.

"...So, you tell that godson of mine that I want to see him!"

Francis chuckled, spotting the women join them. "I will tell him, Monsieur Castleroy. How are the children?"

Aloysius Castleroy brought out his phone, showing them pictures. "Just celebrated my youngest's fifth birthday."

"I'm sure your wife would have been proud," Francis said kindly.

"Thank you, Your Highness-"

"I told you-"

"_Dauphin_," the man coyly said before turning to the women. "Your Highness, Your Ladyship."

Greer blushed, placing her hand in his when he extended it. She giggled when he kissed the back of it. "Nice to meet you, Monsieur."

"Likewise," he said, bowing at Mary. "You look beautiful, Princess."

"Thank you!" Mary said happily, glad Greer chose the dress. "Who is your godson?"

Aloysius chuckled. "Leith Bayard. His father saved my life when we were caught in a pub fire during bar hopping in our early twenties. The man got fat and I... was widowed." He shrugged. "C'est la vie."

Mary gave him a sympathetic smile. "I'm so sorry."

"We knew it was coming," he told them. "Cancer. Gone so quick. Anyway, I better get going. I was only here to speak to my godson because I was told he was going to be here."

"Oh?" Greer asked, surprised.

"Said he had something important to do," Aloysius said. "I assumed with His Highness but we'll see. I must go now, adieu."

"Goodbye, Monsieur," the three younger people waved him off.

Greer turned to the couple. "I will see where he's got to. Enjoy dinner."

"We will," Francis said, nodding his head once as she walked away. "Shall we?"

Mary took his arm willingly. "We shall."

...

Greer paused outside a room, hearing the soft melody of a piano playing. As she entered, she saw Leith playing the piano, his voice soon accompanying the melody.

His voice was raw, full of pain and heartbreak and she sighed, closing her eyes taking in the music.

".._.That I never thought how much I needed you..._"

She didn't even know he could hit the high notes. Greer believed that the men's schooling must have been top-notch to be putting out Army boys, musicians and all-around clever students. Just like hers and the girls' back in Scotland.

"..._I think I'm lost, without you..._"

She made her presence known. "Who was she?"

"My sister."

Greer frowned. When did he have a sister? He never spoke of one and nor did anyone else.

"Sister?" She asked, taking a seat beside him.

Leith nodded, sniffling. "The anniversary of her death is today. There was some news three years ago. The train crash at Gare du Nord."

Greer gasped softly. "I remember Aunt Marie talking about that. Over twenty-seven people died?"

"Including my older sister," Leith said, making her place a hand on his arm. "I was on break from the Army. She met this man, fell in love and everything. He lived out of town and my sister told us that she wanted to see the world and... she had trips all around Africa and Asia planned, he was footing the bill, their love was pure and quick but strong... We got a call a few hours later. They both died."

"That's why your godfather was looking for you," she whispered.

Leith turned to her in surprise. "Uncle Al is here?"

"He left. No one could find you," Greer told him. "I'm so sorry."

"It's fine," Leith said, strained. "Uncle Al used to take us to theatre plays and musicals when we were kids. My parents are in London, setting up their newest bakery - they must have told him to check in on me. I _do_ have a few missed calls from them."

Greer took his hand. "Why don't we go out for some fresh air? Talk, walk and-"

"Talk about us having sex and my ghosting right after?" He asked, wincing. "I swear, it wasn't you, it was _me_. Genuinely. Things get difficult around this time, Calynn was very ambitious and she loved life and I find myself stuck and unable to move on and be happy. She would have loved you."

Greer blushed. "You think so?"

"Blonde? Check. Beautiful? Check. Funny? Check. _Clever_, now that is a great big check," he said, kissing her softly.

Greer pulled back after, a smile on her face. "I notice that you and your late sister have Scottish names."

"My mother's Scottish. Came to France for university," Leith explained.

"Ah," Greer said. "Now, isn't that so nice?"

"I think I'd like that walk now."

...

Mary glared at Francis. "I can't believe you didn't stop me."

"You said I should never stop you from eating when you're hungry!"

She sat down on the sofa, rubbing her back. "Good Lord, the weight I'll have when this one comes out... I know I told you not to stop me but why didn't you?"

"Because you're eating for two?" Francis asked her, chuckling.

"Don't laugh! I'm _huge_!" She cried out, sniffling. "I tried _thirteen_ dresses today! Greer had to find one that stretched."

Francis got up and knelt down in front of her. "Do you maybe think it's time to stop relying on stretchy clothes and actual maternity wear?"

"Well, we're planning on having more so they won't go to waste..." She mumbled. "But Francis, my dresses are pretty!"

"And as much as I love watching you struggle to wear clothes from leggings to party dresses, you need to leave some legroom for our baby to kick," Francis told her. "Why don't you and Kenna go with the rest of the girls? I'm sure you both can find some lovely outfits for your growing bumps. You _are_ in your third trimester now."

Mary sighed. "I'll see if she wants to go... But she's busy."

"Then take your mother."

"She's at her home with her siblings," Mary said. "Everyone's too busy for the pregnant lady..." She started to sob and Francis laughed, pressing a kiss on her head.

"Oh, my sweet Mary love," he said, against her skin. "Stop crying, I'll ask my sisters. They adore you now."

Mary nodded, wiping her tears. "Am I fat?"

"What are you on about?" Francis asked, cupping her wet cheeks. "You're gorgeous."

She gave him a watery smile and brought one of his hands down to her bump. "Baby agrees."

"Baby is smart," Francis said teasingly. "I love you, Mary."

"I love you too," she replied. She then cupped his cheek as his other hand rested on her hip. "What would you like? In terms of a boy or a girl?"

Francis pondered the thought before replying with, "A daughter if I'm really honest. I've always wanted a little princess to spoil. But then again, a son could look up to me and I can dress him the same way I dress. Like a mini-me."

"I'm so conflicted," Mary said. "Like, we have so many good options for names for both genders and well, I guess I don't mind. Either way, France gets a future king or its first female monarch. I'm glad the weight's been lifted off our shoulders to produce a male heir."

"Same here. Now we can enjoy our child as they are without worrying about hundreds of years old traditions. We set the example," Francis said. "As of July, you and I will be King and Queen."

Mary beamed. "Can't wait," she said before capturing his lips in a sweet kiss.

...

Lola tutted as she rearranged the tiara on Mary's head. "Stop faffing about. You look beautiful."

Mary winced, feeling her back crack a little. "I'm not so sure about this dress... What if I sit down and a hole tears?"

Greer walked around her. "We thought about that. There will be extra material that flows from your bustline to hide any mishaps should they happen. Why did you buy this dress when you knew you weren't going to stay that size?"

Mary shrugged. "I am in between sizes," she said. "I thought I'd still have some leeway."

"Leeway?" Greer scoffed. "Honey, you are pregnant. Second to third trimesters is quite the distance between them."

"Not you too," Mary mumbled. "Francis had my mother and me going shopping for maternity wear."

"Where is he anyway?" Lola asked, attaching the extra material on and making it look natural.

Mary sighed. "Going to collect Bash's birthday gift. He and Kenna are leaving tomorrow, remember?"

"We do," Greer said, helping her put rose gold jewellery on. "His birthday's in three days. He doesn't want to spend it with everyone?"

Mary shook her head. "I think he and Kenna just need some privacy after everything. The media is still going insane over the trial and Christmas and-ow!"

Lola gasped, wincing. "Sorry, sorry! I miscalculated how far I was pinning this. Sorry, I'll get the tailor to stitch it up for you."

Mary giggled. "It's fine," she said, waving it off. "Baby's kicking so I barely feel either with how bad my back kills me. Think they can hide and press against my damn bladder all the time. I see your game, Baby!"

The baby kicked and Greer chuckled when Mary brought her hand to the bump to feel.

"Adorable," the blonde said teasingly. "Keep annoying your mama, Baby. It's for her benefit because your father always makes it up to her."

"Shut up!"

"I wonder how sex is whilst pregnant?" Greer replied.

Mary gasped, her cheeks reddening. "I hate you."

"Love you too, lass," Greer told her before letting go and standing back. "You're going to _love_ the gift Leith and I got the baby."

"Oh?" Mary said. "Any spoilers?"

Lola tutted. "No! Remy was kind enough to help me pick one out. I don't know what it is but he said you and Francis should open it when you're alone."

"You're too pure for the world, Lola," Greer told her friend.

"How do you mean?"

Mary chuckled, shaking her head a little. "That means that it's probably related to sex. More specifically for Francis's pleasure. I heard the guys teasing him about how much brazen I'd got. At least he isn't complaining."

"What man would?" Lola asked, finally catching on. "Sex on demand."

"Lola!"

"Hey, I've heard it, don't shoot the messenger."

Mary laughed, using their help to get off the pedestal. "You crazy women..."

...

"Pink champagne?" Leith asked, disgusted. "Really?"

Mary scoffed. "It's a rose gold themed baby shower, Leith!"

"Yes, Leith," Greer said. "Get with it!"

Leith chuckled and turned to Francis. "You better have something hidden."

Francis looked around before giving him a nod. "Whiskey's in the third gift box. Purposefully requested my father to use it to 'wet the baby's head' so to speak. I can always get more."

"My man," Leith said before heading to the gift's table to swipe the box.

"This baby shower is really lovely," Lissie said, coming over with her own pink champagne. "Really on-trend and in good taste."

"Was that a compliment I heard?" Francis asked, looking around at everyone in confusion before returning his gaze back to his sister who rolled her eyes. "Oh, Elisabeth! Did _you_ say that?"

Lissie tutted. "Francis, brother dear..."

"Alright," he said, chuckling. "Thank you."

"Yes, thank you," Mary said, squeezing her hand happily. "It was mostly me out of us two."

"Thought so," Lissie replied. "He wouldn't be caught dead in pink otherwise."

"_Rose gold_," Francis stated through gritted teeth. "Rose gold and pink _are not_ the same!"

"Think again," Greer mumbled, sipping her drink.

Mary laughed, rubbing her husband's shoulder. "Why don't we take a lap around the room? Put the debate to rest."

"I see Claude and her fiancé," Francis told her. "Let's see what he's like."

The couple left their group and joined Claude and Enzo, Enzo immediately bowing and kissing the back of Mary's hand, making her smile politely as he stood back straighter.

"Your Royal Highnesses," he greeted them, nervously taking Claude's hand.

"How are you enjoying the baby shower?" Mary asked him, noting how their grip was loose.

"It's wonderful, Ma'am," Enzo said, turning to Francis. "Your wife did a splendid job, S-Sir."

"Why are you so nervous?" Francis asked, chuckling. "Get a drink down you-"

"I don't drink," Enzo said, blushing. "Never liked the taste."

Francis smiled. "Well, perhaps the Duchess of Lorraine can search for a suitable substitute for her intended?"

Claude glared at her brother but smiled, pressing a kiss onto Enzo's cheek before curtseying at the couple and leaving. Only Mary knew why but Francis seemed to be suspicious, she didn't blame him. She did tell him that she was gay, so he had a reason to doubt Enzo's intentions even if there weren't any at all other than someone to marry and have kids with so he could live his life how he wanted.

"So, the Duke of Auvergne," Francis said.

"Yes, Sir," Enzo said. "Charles Enzo Bechard."

Francis nodded. "Your father is still alive though?"

"He retired from the duchy," Enzo explained. "Wanted to start a business in Australia."

"I see. How old were you when you claimed the duchy?"

"Seventeen, Your Royal Highness."

"That would have made Claude fifteen," Francis stated. "Do you love her?"

Enzo blushed furiously. "Uh, Sir-"

"Do you love Claude?"

"I appreciate and adore her, Sir," Enzo said. "She has given me something no other can."

Mary smiled. "And what is that?"

"Freedom," Enzo said. "It was quick, I know that but we know we're the right fit."

"Your friend is her ex," Francis continued. "Luca Narcisse."

Enzo nodded with a smile. "Indeed. He introduced us to each other. No hard feelings or anything was involved. He just wanted to see us both happy. Claude is a wonderful woman and under your supervision, I intend to make sure she is well provided for and taken care of. She's your little sister, I understand that you may have qualms about me but we make each other really happy. I will marry her and make her my duchess."

"As for her inheritance?"

"What about it?"

"Do you intend to claim any?"

Enzo laughed. "Your Royal Highness, this is not the 1500s. Dowries are so early French rule. Her inheritance is her inheritance. I have my own fortune as well as my parents' to tend for us and how many children we may have. It will even see our great-great-great descendants. This isn't about money. It's about love and respect and I have both with Claude."

Francis relaxed, offering the man his hand to shake. "Welcome to the family, the future Duke of Lorraine."

Enzo beamed. "T-Thank you, Sir. Thank you so much. You don't know how much this means to me. I-I mean, I asked for her hand in marriage from your father and he accepted but from you? This is inspirational. Our children will have a great uncle in you."

"Alright, slow down, mister," a voice said from behind him. "Yes, yes, congratulations and all, inspirational Francis _will_ be a great uncle and everything. Now, could you excuse us, please?"

Enzo blushed and nodded, quickly bowing to the couple and Kenna and Bash before going off to find Claude.

"Kenna!" Mary cried out before giving them both hugs. "You didn't have to shoo him off."

"We'd been standing there for the past five minutes, listening to him idolise Francis," Bash said, hugging his brother. "Trust me, you weren't going to escape him any time soon if we hadn't have stepped in."

Francis chuckled, hugging Kenna. "Why are you late?"

"We were packing," Kenna told them, wrapping an arm around Bash's waist. "We're going in thirty minutes."

"We thought you were going tomorrow?" Mary asked, sharing a confused glance with Francis.

Kenna nodded. "Well, our home was broken into so Rita thought it was wise for us to spend time away as they bolster up security and everything. We've already hired ten new members to the team from different backgrounds. We have FBI agents, MI5, CIA... But everything is good," she said, turning to Bash as he nodded. "And we're fine."

"Why don't you stay with us at Versailles?" Francis suggested. "You could have told us that your home was being targeted."

"Honestly, Francis, it's fine," Bash told the other couple. "We've invited my mother and Kenna's parents to celebrate my birthday and we're going to take our minds off of everything."

"I'm so sorry," Mary mumbled sadly. "If we had known..."

"There is nothing you or anyone could do," Kenna said. "It's not a stalker or anything, just some disgruntled people who wish me nothing but hell and whatever else. I made my bed and I lay in it. I can let them get to me or I can ignore them. Nothing is going to stop me from being married to the love of my life."

"And have his baby," Mary said quietly, making them all smile. Their little secret. "Come here." She hugged Kenna again. "If you need anything, just ask."

Bash shook his head. "We're fine for now." His smile left his face when his eyes landed on a familiar brunette. "Who invited the Comtessa de Verona?"

"Catherine did," Mary said. "Why?"

"You're joking?"

"Not at all," Francis said, letting out a little cough. "She's coming our way."

Kenna smirked. "Ex-girlfriend, darling?"

"Ex-girlfriend and more-"

"Francis!"

The woman finally joined them and sent a bright smile at Bash's way but he could see the resentment in her eyes and he cleared his throat.

"Delphine, hello," Bash mumbled.

Delphine tilted her head. "Is _that_ how you greet the supposed love of your life?"

"Excuse me?" Kenna squeaked out, turning to Bash.

"Oh, he used that line with _all_ the women," Delphine told her. "Rowan, me, Olivia, Sophia, Jasmine-"

"I never-"

"Everyone who is anyone _and_ female knows who Mr Promiscuous is," Delphine said, tapping his shoulder. "Let me tell you how we parted."

"Delphine," Francis tried.

"He took me to Finland for our anniversary and ditched me for the hotel receptionist before returning to France all alone and being culled back to the Army," she said, rolling her eyes. "He never ever called me back and left me stranded in the middle of Finland until I realised he was never coming back."

Kenna nodded slowly. "Wow. I don't know why you felt the need to tell me that."

"I had to tell-"

"Considering that he's told me about his sexual past and I've had mine plastered on newspapers and magazines," Kenna said. "So you're a little disgruntled that he didn't propose to you or something and you're jealous and spiteful and decided to shake things up a little in his marriage. But you see, I am not a jealous person. Mostly. Come on, you've probably read that article about me having threesomes and the like. Such is life, live a little and let bygones be bygones!"

Delphine clicked her tongue in annoyance. "Alright." She scoffed. "And what about him telling all the women in the world that he loves them?"

Kenna shrugged. "Lust is a strange thing. I'm just grateful that what he and I have is real and we're married for life. Aren't we, lover?"

Bash almost choked. "Yes, dear."

Delphine glared at them before walking away, grabbing a drink from a passing tray and leaving the room overall. After she left, Kenna started to laugh, pointing an accusing finger at her husband.

"No wonder you didn't want to say 'I love you' so soon. Because you wore it out!" She giggled, smacking his chest. "I like what you said."

"What?"

"'Yes, dear'," she whispered, staring into his eyes. "The fear in your eyes when you realised that I've consumed your soul."

Bash chuckled, kissing her deeply. "Well, I don't know how you did it but you have it."

"Ahem?" Mary said.

"Well, we enjoyed that little show and got more than we bargained for regarding your questionable sex lives," Francis said. "You have fifteen minutes left on the clock, let's exchange our gifts before another ex of yours comes along and ruins this."

"You're no fun!" Kenna told the other couple before they laughed.

...

By mid-June, things were getting exciting _and_ stressful. Versailles was full of life as everyone prepared the arrival of the new royal baby and Mary paced the bedroom, her hand a constant on her back as Francis watched her as if he was watching a tennis match.

"I'm overdue-"

"_One_ day overdue!" Her husband cried out. "Just keep walking it out."

"Open the bloody tablet and start looking for ways to induce labour!" She ordered, continuing to pace. "I just want this baby _out_."

Francis chuckled, checking his Rolex watch. "It's only three in the morning."

"And so? I've been feeling contractions since."

"What? Why didn't you tell me?!" Francis asked, jumping up from his seat to pace with her.

Mary giggled, shrugging. "I don't know. They weren't close or anything. Just uncomfortable."

"Shall I get the exercise ball?"

"God no," she said. "Makes me more uncomfortable."

Francis nodded. "How about the water bath?"

"I don't want to give birth to our baby in a water bath!"

"How about a normal-"

"Francis?"

"Yes?"

"Shut up and do your research."

Francis nodded. "Yes, Ma'am," he said, quickly taking a seat and grabbing his iPad. He scrolled through some websites. "Sex induces labour."

Mary scoffed. "Of course-"

"No, seriously! This isn't for my benefit, it's for _yours_."

Mary sighed. She couldn't lose or gain anything in trying, she guessed. "Fine."

A while later, they were undressed and in bed. Mary called the shots and Francis obeyed, sometimes pissing her off at times but he shook it off, it was all down to her hormones.

"That doesn't feel-"

"What if I shift-"

"No, don't move. God, Francis-"

"Mary, what if I just-"

Mary let out a frustrated groan and quickly got off Francis, laying on the bed with a sigh. "I. Hate. Being. Pregnant."

"I hate you being pregnant too," Francis said lightly before she kicked him. "I mean when you're one day overdue."

"How did I get to nine months already?" She asked, rubbing her bump. "No sex position feels comfortable. My back aches or my hips."

"Other people have done it whilst being pregnant. I guess the pleasure outweighs the pain?"

"Shut up," Mary said, giggling. "As you read, they said it's good to induce labour but I can't see my feet let alone have sex like this."

"Should I Google comfortable positions?" He asked, retrieving his iPad.

Mary nodded. "I guess," she mumbled. "No yoga poses for the love of God."

"Who do you take me for?" He asked her in amusement. "I can't even lift my leg over my head!"

Mary laughed and settled back onto her pillow, staring down at her bare bump. It was _huge_ and everyone was excited for her to pop. Some people were even betting how long it would take for her to return back to her usual size and she rolled her eyes at the polls. It was not a big deal, she welcomed the baby weight.

"Alright," Francis said, showing her his device. "This one looks simple enough."

Mary gulped. "Let's try it then."

...

"Mon Dieu, mon Dieu, mon Dieu, mon-"

"Francis!" Mary snapped, as the midwife hurried her into the hospital, her hand gripping onto Francis's tightly. "Shut the hell up!"

"It's happening," Francis breathed out in shock. "Mary, we're actually having a baby."

Mary glared at him. "You've only just realised _now_? Not when I have been growing for the past damn nine months? Since _you_ did this to me?!"

Francis winced. "Now that you say that..."

"Francis?"

"I'll be quiet."

"Have you called your parents?"

"Angelica alerted Fontainebleau."

Mary nodded. "And my mother?"

"Angelica alerted the de Guise estate."

Mary nodded once again. "Oh and K-Kenna and Bash?"

"Everyone has been told, baby," Francis assured her. "Don't worry, our baby will be surrounded by everyone who loves them. Trust me, the world will know when this baby comes."

Mary turned to him and pursed her lips to which he responded to with a soft kiss. "Alright, let's go have a baby."

"Let's go have a baby."

"Francis?"

"Yeah?"

"Did you bring the hospital bag?" She asked him breathlessly.

Francis cursed, coming to a standstill as Michel turned to him in amusement. "Shit."

Mary turned to glare at him. "François Simon Léon Valois-Angoulême-de Medici," she cried out before yelling out in pain as a contraction hit. "I'm going to kill you."

"I thought we had people for that!"

"I told _you_, you idiot! To give you something to do!" Mary screamed at him before she was taken into the room. "I'm going to kill him," she told the midwife who laughed. "God, why?"

* * *

**You're just going to have to wait because the next chapter is all about babies and I've done my research to touch on a storyline revolving real-life situations. As you guys know, I tend to add true-life situations in my stories and I hope you enjoy what I have in store.**


	21. Life, Death & Crowns

**Replies to reviews: **

**the girl with the silver arrow [chapter 20]: You are very welcome! Only Mary would be willing to give birth so quickly. The French language is so exciting. You're very lucky to have had the pleasure to visit that place! Can't wait for the next chapter of your story!**

**BlerBlerBler [chapter 20]: I didn't want to dawdle, haha. As monarchs and parents, they've now got exciting lives with balancing royal duties and parenthood! Baby Frary has arrived!**

**After twenty chapters, we have our first Frary baby in the 21st chapter (Frary are 21 ;))! As I said, loosely basing this on my ATEOTB story as I've established some children characteristics so if you guessed 'girl', well done! Also, I just want to say that I can't write coronation scenes for shit. And yes, there will be the coronation in this chapter as it fits into the quote of the chapter, birth as it is the birth of a new reign.**

**Baby Girl Frary: Wednesday 17th June 2020 at 5:08 AM.**

**Warning: Premature and stillbirth so read at your discretion.**

****Quote of the chapter: "The main facts in human life are five: birth, food, sleep, love and death." ― E. M. Forster.****

* * *

Mary looked up at Francis and beamed. "We have our little-"

"Queen," he breathed out, gasping when the baby clutched his finger. "She's just so pure."

Mary nodded. "She is," she said softly, admiring her daughter's sleeping face. "Her name."

"Well, I guess we _should_ name our first daughter after you," Francis said happily. "Marie it is."

She giggled, rolling her eyes. "Fine," she said. "That will be her first name but we will call her by her second." She looked down at the baby. "Our little Queen Marie."

"Yes," Francis cooed, pressing a kiss onto his wife's head before doing the same to their new daughter. "How about Princess 'Anne'?"

Mary turned to him. "Anaïs," she whispered, meeting his blue eyes. Their daughter had his beautiful blue eyes and gorgeous wisps of light brown hair. A perfect mix of their love.

"Oh my God, that's so sweet," Francis gushed.

"Oh my God, you're so adorable when you are in awe," his wife teased him, reaching up to brush his blonde hair back.

Francis blushed. "Whatever," he said. "If I remember very clearly, you hated me an hour ago. You cursed me, you screamed in my ear, nearly broke my hand, the whole shebang."

Mary giggled, shrugging a little. "What can I say? A pregnant woman gets hormonal when a seven-pound baby comes out of her."

"I love you so much," Francis mumbled, eyeing their daughter. "And her too. You are both my life."

"We love you too," Mary whispered back, pulling his head down to kiss her lips softly. "Take a picture and send it to Kenna. She told me they've already had people sort out the nursery in their Paris estate. Imagine swanning off to Thailand the week your niece is due."

Francis chuckled, retrieving his phone. "Apparently, 'push gifts' are a thing and Bash decided that the trip was too good to pass on."

"Where's my 'push gift'?" Mary pouted. "Kenna gets a trip to Thailand and she's only twenty-two weeks pregnant! I've pushed the whole baby out of me moments ago."

He laughed. "It's a surprise. Don't worry!" He took a few pictures of the beaming mother and their sleeping child. "So photogenic, she will steal hearts!"

"Proud dad over here," Mary announced loudly.

"Is that so?" Michel called back, chuckling. "The King and Queen will arrive in due course."

"Thank you," Francis told him before returning to his mini-photoshoot. "Oh my God, she's yawning! Bâillement, bâillement!"

Mary looked down to see their child let out a wide yawn before sneezing and falling back asleep. "God bless you, my sweetheart. Oh, she's so beautiful. Look at how tiny her fingers and toes are!" She gushed.

"One would believe you've never seen a baby before," Francis teased her.

"François!"

"You sound like my mother," Francis replied, grinning as he took a seat to select and reject his photos. "Oh, Anaïs... God has truly blessed you with your mother's looks. You should be glad, my darling."

Mary laughed loudly before wincing. "Oh, God. Stitches are _not_ fun."

"We will have the announcement tomorrow and show her off a little to the public before she's all ours," Francis told her. "Congratulations, Mary."

"What for?"

"What for? You gave birth to the future Queen Regnant of France," he said, making her blush deeply. "Such a boss move."

"A power play."

"Strong, independent woman."

"The genius behind the man."

"Hey!"

"What, you started it," she said, laughing and glancing down at Anaïs. "Hi, baby girl... Don't mind your father, I decided to keep him a long time ago and now he won't stop coming back. I think you've stolen his heart already. I had to wait five years."

Francis beamed. "What can I say? You're both very beautiful and you make me happy."

...

Kenna smiled widely, turning a little to show her husband the photographs of their new niece. "She was born at eight past 5 in the morning. Marie Anaïs."

"That's nice," Bash said, kissing her cheek. "Are you ready to get out of bed now?"

"It's only noon," Kenna replied. "I'm just not feeling all that proactive, mon amour."

Bash nodded. "Then how about I go for a swim? You should start packing so we can go home tomorrow."

"Can we stay an extra day, please?"

"Why?"

"I'm not looking forward to being fat-shamed," Kenna mumbled, pulling the duvet further up her body to hide her bump.

Bash rolled his eyes, removing the duvet and pressing a kiss onto her bump. "You're pregnant, not fat," he stated. "And I think it's time we told everyone. Anaïs is born and now, our news can be announced. My father told me over the phone because-"

"Francis will be crowned king in two weeks time."

"Exactly," Bash said, pecking her forehead and getting out of the bed. "Timing is everything, ma femme chérie. Get out of bed, let's go do some exercise." He sighed when she made no effort to move before cupping her cheeks and kissing her. "Allez debout, Mckenna."

Kenna smiled and nodded, placing her phone down and getting out with his help. She winced a little but played the pain off. "Braxton Hicks," she said to her husband when he caressed her hip in concern. "My midwife said it would be happening after twenty weeks. I'm fine, baby."

"Should we get you checked out?"

"No, I'm fine," she assured him, planting a sweet kiss on his lips. "Thanks for being concerned, lover."

"Alright, if you say so," he mumbled, helping her put her one-piece swimsuit on.

"It's tight," she said, wincing when they finally managed to get it on.

Bash sighed. "It's the only one you packed. I can ask around-"

"I'll just stick to my sundress," she said, taking it off and retrieving a yellow dress. "I don't need to go inside the water."

"Alright, babe. I'll just get my swim shorts on and meet you outside?" He replied, watching her slip the dress over her head and put sunglasses on.

Kenna nodded and gave him a bright smile before leaving their villa and heading down to the private beach. Celebrities and the like stayed here, it was known for its private residences and elite holiday experiences for the most elite of the elite.

Kenna knew her bank would be crying when they see how much she spent on the trip alone. She felt discomfort and sat down on a lounger, trying to relax.

The pain went away and Kenna smiled, knowing that it was nothing to be concerned about. Every little wince or a sharp intake of breath (almost always caused by heartburn or trapped wind) made Bash concerned and _she'd_ end up comforting him and not the other way around.

He'd organised the set up of the nursery, saying something about making it fit for a royal baby. It was a surprise for her and she wasn't allowed to see it until _after_ they had their baby. It was unconventional but she didn't mind, he spoilt her and together they could do anything.

"What are you thinking about?"

Kenna looked up at him and shook her head. "Nothing. The twinges have gone and now Baby is just enjoying the sun with me."

"Do you want me to stay with you?" He asked her.

"No, you go and enjoy the water. It looks too beautiful to not swim in. Enjoy it for us both," she replied.

Bash grinned, backing away from her. "Want to make it interesting?"

Kenna smirked, lifting her sunglasses to rest on top of her head. "Go on then."

"It's too hot to be _clothed_, isn't it?"

"It is," she agreed coyly.

"What can I do about that?"

Kenna shrugged. "You tell me."

Bash fingered the sides of his shorts. "Are you sure?"

"Beware of the paparazzi, mon amour," she said, laughing. "Give them a reason to see a prince naked."

"Ah, I guess you're right," he replied, removing his fingers. "See you in a bit."

Kenna chuckled to herself, watching him disappear beneath the blue-green water, the same colour as his eyes. She rubbed her bump lovingly and beamed.

"I hope you have your papa's eyes," she said quietly. "They're so beautiful..."

...

Francis placed a hand on Mary's shoulder, the two of them walking towards the reporters and the official name plaque which was covered by a red velvet cover. Mary held their newborn against her chest, shielding the sleeping baby's face from the flashing cameras.

Henry and Catherine stood back, the proud grandparents they were, giving the younger couple their moment to shine.

"Thank you all for coming," Francis said, giving his wife a wide smile. "Yesterday morning at eight past five, our _daughter_ was born. Our beautiful daughter who looks so much like her mother with her father's eyes was born. She will be the _first_ Queen Regnant of France."

Everyone applauded and Mary revealed their child's face, using part of her palm to stop the flashes from getting onto her eyes. Due to the noise, the baby opened her eyes and scowled a little, making her parents laugh. More flashes, more pictures, more joy.

Mary cleared her throat, gaining everyone's attention. "It didn't take us long to decide on a name fit for a princess. His Royal Highness and I have named our new daughter, Marie Anaïs," she announced, Narcisse removing the cover to reveal the plaque. She decided to hold back on the meaning, she knew there would be articles on that, explaining how the couple probably came up with the names. "Details on her godparents will come soon after discussion."

The couple allowed the reporters to take a few more photographs of the overjoyed family before Henry and Catherine took some with the new parents and newborn. After a while, the current King and Queen of France said a few words, explaining how overjoyed they were to welcome their first grandchild into the family before both couples and baby left to return into Fontainebleau chateau.

"Give her to Meme," Catherine told Mary once they were in the informal living room.

Mary handed her over, smiling when Catherine gasped, tears springing to the older woman's eyes. "What is it?"

"I-I remember when Francis was this little," Catherine breathed out, making her son blush. "My baby having a baby."

"Maman..."

"Francis, we are so proud of you," Henry told him. "For becoming a father, a king, everything. Your mother and I have been hard on you over the years but it's because we love you and we care about you. Now, you don't need us because someone else needs _you_. Protect Anaïs, Francis. With your life."

Francis smiled and nodded. "I will, Dad."

His eyes met Mary's and his wife blushed, looking away. He chuckled to himself, giving her a wink when she looked at him again as his parents gushed over their granddaughter.

"I love you," he mouthed to her.

Mary grinned. "I love you too," she mouthed back.

...

"Friday the 3rd," Narcisse announced, handing Henry, Bash and Francis their schedules. "Three days time, gentlemen."

"Do I _have_ to wear the cloak?" Francis asked, looking at the prospective mannequin photographs.

Henry nodded. "It's not a cloak, it's a _habit_. A Royal Habit, mind you. More ornate than the one you wore at your wedding."

"Wonderful(!)" Francis mumbled, eyeing Bash when his older brother's phone beeped with a text message which he ignored, looking through the schedule. "I see that Anaïs will be present."

"She will be," Henry said happily. "It is her day as well. The day she will be crowned Crown Princess, _Dauphine_."

"She will be seventeen days old," Francis said. "She won't enjoy the music or-"

"She _will_ be there," Henry said. "Even if for a few minutes. She must be crowned, before or after you, we don't mind. Preferably after."

Francis nodded. "Very well, Dad."

"This is lasting the _whole_ day?" Bash asked, picking up his phone when it beeped again and lowering the volume of the device before beginning to highlight important points of the day.

"Of course," Henry said incredulously. "It will be your brother's first day as the King of France."

Bash sighed. "Very well," he said, placing his phone down. "Sorry, I'm listening."

"Who is texting you, Mckenna?"

"She's probably reminding me about a midwife appointment or something," Bash replied, continuing to highlight points on the schedule. "Why couldn't it take place on a Wednesday?"

"Have you ever heard of a day off on a Wednesday? If the anniversary falls on a Friday for that particular year, children can have three-day weekends until the end of Francis's reign," Henry explained. "That and we want to plan ahead for children across the nation to see footage of the event. It's a day for the history books."

Bash scoffed lightly. "Children getting involved in politics now? Watching a blonde prince strut down an aisle with an ugly cloak just to hold a spectre and ball at the end of it with a large, heavy, gold crown on top of his head."

Francis laughed. "Well, thank you."

"Any time, little brother," Bash replied. "I'm sure everyone will be desperate to watch."

Henry rolled his eyes but took it lightly. "I hated it at my own coronation," he admitted. "I think I'm going to take pleasure in seeing you walk down the aisle in the discomfort of having a heavy _habit_ over your shoulders."

Bash's phone beeped again and he sighed, unlocking it and entering his text messages with Kenna. "Sorry about this. I know this meeting has been scheduled for a while, but..."

"Bash?" Francis called him, seeing his brother's face pale.

"Kenna's at the hospital," Bash said, getting up. "I'm so sorry-"

"No," his father said. "Go. Now!"

...

Kenna smiled when Bash entered the room, immediately brushing her hair back. "They've not checked anything yet but I wanted to have my mind put to rest-"

"So, you've just got here?"

"Mhm," she hummed. "I was feeling awful during tea with the girls and well, I've not felt them kick lately..."

Bash frowned. "Why didn't you tell me?"

"Well, we left Thailand, got back to France only to be whisked away to visit Anaïs, Mary and Francis and I didn't want to ruin anything. Our baby niece was just born, there should be joy and happiness, not worry and fear."

The midwife entered and gave the couple a reassuring smile.

"Your Highness," she greeted Bash before turning to Kenna. "I'm just going to check your blood pressure."

Kenna nodded shakily. "Yeah, of course."

"Just relax," the midwife said.

Kenna reached out for Bash's hand and he took it, giving it a gentle squeeze as she let out a breath of air.

During the ultrasound, the midwife looked for a heartbeat. Each passing second made Kenna's anxiety spike and she closed her eyes, trying to take deep breaths to calm herself down.

She will find the heartbeat, everything will be fine.

"I'm just..." The midwife frowned, getting up before giving them a small smile. "I'm going to fetch the doctor."

Kenna turned to Bash after the woman left. "There's something wrong," she whispered.

"No, positive thoughts, Kenna," Bash told her, rubbing her shoulder with his other hand. "Everything will be fine."

Kenna smiled at him. "Yeah. The baby is probably just being difficult."

"Like-"

"If you say _me_, you'll sleep in Olenna's dog bed and she'll join me in ours," Kenna warned him, making them laugh. "I love you, Bash."

"I love you too," Bash whispered, kissing her.

The midwife returned, the doctor behind her. He took a seat where she was earlier and introduced himself to the couple before getting down to business.

He mumbled some things in French to the midwife, and Kenna tried to catch on. From the squeeze on her shoulder, she waited patiently. They all waited as he moved the device around her bump.

Kenna studied the doctor's face and his eyes softened as he began to remove the device from her bump and hand her tissues to clean off the gel.

"Je suis vraiment désolé. Il n'y a pas de rythme cardiaque," he said, his eyes meeting Bash's.

"I'm sorry? Wh-What does that mean?" Kenna asked, frowning as she turned to Bash. "What did he say? What does that mean?"

Bash sighed. "Kenna, you know what it means-"

"No, that can't be right," she cut him off before turning to the doctor. "Try again."

"Madame, we've searched for a heartbeat and it hasn't-"

"Your machine must be on mute-"

"It's never on mute," the midwife tried to explain.

"Just try again," Kenna begged him, her voice breaking. "Please?"

The doctor hesitantly reached for the Doppler device but Bash shook his head. He placed it back down and left the room with the midwife, giving the couple some privacy.

Kenna broke out in sobs, being pulled into a tight hug. "I should have come sooner-"

"No-"

"I should have known something was wrong-"

"Kenna-"

"It's all my fault," she whispered, sobbing. "I did this. Bash, I'm sorry..."

Bash pressed a kiss onto her forehead. "No," he said firmly. "This isn't your fault. Things like this happen, no explanation or anything. It's no one's fault."

She buried her face into his chest, inhaling his scent as she continued to sob. She placed a shaking hand onto her bump, the bump where their deceased child was. She felt sick and she brought Bash's hand down to press against it.

"Do something," she told him.

"There's nothing I can do," he said quietly. "Kenna, we can't do anything. Our baby's gone."

...

Mary paced the nursery with Anaïs in her arms. She hummed a French melody, sending her mother a smile as the older woman went through a weathered trunk.

"My old Christening gown?"

Marie beamed. "Booties, tiara and all. Gender-neutral, may I add?"

Mary chuckled and pressed a kiss onto her daughter's head. "God, did your breasts hurt a lot when you were breastfeeding me?"

"Both times," her mother mumbled absentmindedly rifling through the trunk.

Mary paused. "I'm sorry?"

Marie stopped what she was doing and looked at her daughter in shock. "Nothing."

"What did you say?"

"Oh, forgive me. My mind's-"

"Maman," Mary snapped before her posture softened. "Tell me."

Marie sighed, getting up from the ground and taking a proper seat. "Two years before you came, your father and I had a baby boy - Robert," Marie told her daughter. "He died. Out of the blue. We put him to bed one day and a few hours later when he needed feeding, he was stone cold blue. The doctors told us it was cot death. he was only six months old. Your brother was heartbroken."

Mary sighed. "Mama, I'm so sorry."

"It's fine," Marie said, wiping her tears. "It was so long ago. I never forgot him. I should have told you but it was still painful. The nine months I carried him added to the six months he was alive and kicking... Anyway, we were ready to try again and had you on the first go, our first little princess."

Mary smiled sadly. "Anyway, Francis wants to feed her but I've got him to hold off for now. I want to focus on breastfeeding and not pumping. Although pumping will be much appreciated because my breasts are always full and leaking. Lord imagine if I start leaking in the middle of Francis's coronation."

"It's your unit's coronation," her mother corrected her. "Mary, you as Queen Consort and Anaïs as Crown Princess, the new dauphine."

Mary smiled widely. "It is, isn't it? I'm excited, Mama. Francis and I have so many ideas. We plan to start up a few charities. Get a look into homelessness in big cities. Honestly, Mum, this marriage is the best thing to happen to me. Thank you, and Dad."

Marie let out a sob, standing up to hug her daughter. "Oh, look at you. You're a mother, Mary. My baby's a mother!"

"Yes, I am," Mary said, chuckling. "Have been for fourteen days now."

"Are you getting enough sleep?"

"Maman!"

"Enough nutrients and supplements?"

"Ma-"

"Your breast milk depends on it - eating properly, dear," Marie told her. "Let me fetch Greer. She knows what you like to eat when you're in your fussy phase."

Mary scoffed. "I am _not_ in a fussy phase!" She blushed when her stomach grumbled.

"Tell that to your stomach."

Mary giggled. "Fine," she said. "I'll give the chefs a quick bell."

The women turned to the door when it opened and Mary grinned when she saw that it was her husband. Her smile faded when she saw that he wasn't smiling back.

"It's Kenna," he said quietly.

"What's happened?" Marie asked in concern. "Is my niece alright?"

Francis shook his head. "Bash called me and said that they... they lost the baby."

Mary gasped. "Oh my God."

...

"He's beautiful, Kenna," Bash said, stroking their son's cheek. "Do you want to hold him?"

Kenna shook her head. "I-I can't," she whispered. She turned her head away to stare through the window where the night sky laid beyond. "What's the time?"

"Just gone past seven," Bash replied. "Do you need anything?"

Again, she shook her head. "I just want to go home."

"Not yet, chérie," Bash told her softly. "We should name him."

"Why?" She asked, frowning. "It's not like he'll be someone."

"Kenna," he said firmly.

She turned to him, her lips wavering. "He's supposed to be alive, Bash. I can't name my dead baby because... He'll never be called that. He'll never be a toddler or a child or a teenager and fall in love, get married, have kids... He'll just be... _nothing_." She let out a sob, bringing a hand up to wipe her nose. "Matthias."

"That means 'The Gift of God'," Bash whispered, looking down at the baby. "Yeah. That works."

Kenna got up from the hospital bed, wincing when a shot of pain went through her. She ignored it and walked over to them, tiptoeing and resting her chin on Bash's shoulder.

"Want to give him a name too?" She asked, her voice breaking.

Bash nodded, tears springing to his eyes. "I've always liked the name 'Gabriel'. 'God is my strength'."

"That's so sweet," she whispered, closing her eyes as tears slipped down her cheeks. "Matthias Gabriel. Our little angel."

"Please, hold him."

Kenna took a deep breath in before releasing it and opening her eyes. She placed the heels of her feet back down onto the floor and adjusted herself to bring the tiny infant into her arms.

His eyes were closed, which was expected, but to Kenna, it felt like he was just asleep and this was a horrible nightmare. She rocked him, knowing it was futile but she had to do _something_.

"T-They said we could," Bash began, swallowing deeply. "We could take photos or a lock of his hair or footprints or handprints. They said that they could perform tests."

"For what? To confirm what we already know? That it's my-"

"Mckenna, don't," Bash snapped. "I swear if you blame yourself it would do more damage than good. You've been doing so well, that can't have been a factor."

Kenna finally nodded, pressing a soft kiss onto the baby's head. "Okay," she whispered. "Good Lord, we'd just told everyone a few days ago as well... Can we keep it between the family and friends, just for now?"

"Without question," Bash said, kissing the top of her head.

"Amour?"

"Hmm?"

Kenna turned to face him. "I don't think I can do this again."

"Do what?" Bash asked quietly.

"Have a baby," Kenna told him.

"We can talk about that when we're ready," Bash replied. "And we're clear on what has happened."

"I know what I want," she whispered to him, biting her bottom lip.

Bash nodded. "We're grieving, Kenna. Just give me a chance to catch up, alright?"

"Mhm," she hummed, looking down at the baby. "I think he had your eyes."

Bash let out a sob, wrapping his arms around her hips tightly and resting his forehead on the side of her head. She leant into his touch and he pressed a kiss on her cheek.

"I love you so much, Kenna."

She nodded, her voice cracking as she said, "I love you so much too, Bash."

...

Two days later, the day before the coronation, Kenna was able to return home. In her hands, as she stepped out of the car, was her baby's ashes. They'd decided against a casket, wanting to feel their son's presence in their home. The home he'd never get to see or live in.

Miranda carefully helped her into the house, never letting go of Kenna as she directed her up the stairs. "The staff held a vigil on his birthday," she said softly. "I'm so sorry, Your Highness."

Kenna turned to her. "_Kenna_," she said before looking away.

"The Duke said he will return from Fontainebleau soon. He had to tell the rest of the family personally. Not that everyone didn't already know, but-"

"He needed Francis," Kenna said with a sad smile. "Mary wanted to come. I told her 'no'."

"Is it because of the Dauphine?"

Kenna nodded shakily. "I just can't. I'm not ready for that. I'll deal with seeing her tomorrow at the coronation, be there and just forget about everything until the next day."

"Where will you put the ashes?"

"Our bedroom," Kenna stated. "I talk to him. Is that silly?"

"Not at all," Miranda told her. "Anything that helps, you do that."

They passed the nursery and Kenna stopped, making the security guard stop as well. She turned to the door and then to Miranda.

"Can you give me a minute?" She asked. "I might as well see what Bash had done."

Miranda nodded. "Interior designers were coming into the house every day, wanting it to be perfect. Shall I take Matthias and put him in your bedroom?"

Kenna looked down at the small urn and her hands shook as she placed the urn into Miranda's hands. "Be careful with him. Tell him I'll be with him soon. Stay with him, don't leave him."

"Of course, Ma'am," Miranda mumbled before continuing down the hall and disappearing into the master bedroom.

Kenna placed her hand onto the door handle and pulled it down before pushing the door open. She stepped inside and walked in, closing the door behind her.

She looked around, seeing the walls done in a soft beige, the shade of camel hair. It was quite earthy, soft browns and dark woods. The crib matched the changing table and dresser and there were a bunch of clothes folded neatly on top of the dresser.

She walked over to the crib in the centre of the room and saw an outfit hung up on the top horizontal bar. It was a light brown jumpsuit with a white babygro and some baby Converse trainers. A tag attached to it said: 'Baby's Outfit For Leaving The Hospital' in Bash's handwriting. It was cute, Kenna thought. Could be for a girl or a boy. She smiled a little, remembering her mother telling her something about wearing her older half-brothers' hand-me-downs. They may be rich but you can't buy memories.

Kenna looked at the photo frames on the wall. On the left of the door were baby sonograms, documenting their child's growth since the day she found out. On the other wall were the sickeningly sweet pictures they took a few days ago at their official announcement, Bash's hand on her bump and her back against his chest as joyous smiles plagued their faces.

She looked away and found photos of animals, from giraffes to elephants and wild cats and domesticated pets... Bash loved the outdoors and it clearly showed in the room as even the carpet was a muted mint green bundle of fluffiness, signifying grass. Safe enough for a baby to crawl on.

Walking over to the rich dark wood rocking chair, she bent down and studied the armrests, spotting her and Bash's initials carved into the wood inside a heart. Kenna smiled, tears springing to her eyes as she sat down on the rocking chair in the corner, looking around at the things she missed.

A full bookshelf, full of classic stories for babies, toddlers and children alike. A shoe cabinet where loads of branded designer baby shoes were inside, ranging from newborn to age three. A standing lamp in the shape of a tree, its leaves acting as little light bulbs. A matching bedside lamp was on the bedside table by the crib.

Boxes of nappies and baby wipes were in the corner, ready to be opened and used. There was baby shampoo, baby wash, baby powder and many other toiletries and safe liquids in clear drawers as well as baby cosmetic items such as nail cutters or cotton wool.

She had been worried that they weren't prepared but no, they _were_ prepared.

Kenna stood up and went to the middle of the room, looking around it. She stopped when she finally acknowledged the accent wall behind the changing table. It was a golden skyline outline of Paris. with hanging fairy lights zig-zagging down the wall. Hanging on the fairy lights were heart-shaped notes and Kenna went to them.

She brought a hand to her mouth in shock when she saw quotes written on them. She grabbed onto one, reading it and turned her attention to another. Then another, and another and another...

Her hands shook and she yanked the fairy lights down, throwing them onto the ground. She swiped everything off the changing table and moved onto the dresser, yanking baby clothes out of the drawers and onto the ground.

After the drawers were empty, she went over to the bookshelf and emptied that, going to the shoe stand and emptying that as well, and finally moved onto the crib.

She placed her hands on both ends of the top bars and stared into the empty crib. There was a weathered blue rabbit inside and she lifted it to her eyesight and saw a tag saying that it belonged to _Sébastien_.

Bringing the rabbit to her chest, she sank to the ground and burst into sobs. She hugged the small item as if her life depended on it, wishing it was her son, alive and breathing and kicking and crying.

But all she could feel was heartbreak and she closed her eyes when someone wrapped their arms around her, bringing her to their chest tightly.

"I'm here now," Bash whispered. "It's fine. We're going to be fine."

...

"You don't have to go," Bash said as they got ready the next morning.

Kenna turned to him, smiling at him. "How do I look?"

"Like you've not slept, using those hours to cry," her husband replied, putting his honours onto his outfit.

Kenna rolled her eyes and applied more makeup onto her face, checking her phone for any missed text messages. "I'm fine, mon amour."

"Mckenna..."

"This is Francis's day," she said, turning to face him again. "His _coronation_. Once he's crowned king, we will celebrate, smile and be all sad about everything tomorrow, okay? I don't want people to start going off on one when they see that the King's sister-in-law couldn't be bothered to show up."

"They'd understand-"

"They would laugh," Kenna said firmly. "I have to put on a brave face and show them that I am strong. That they don't matter. It's not about me or Matthias or you. It's about Francis, Mary and..."

Bash scoffed. "You can't even say her name now."

Kenna looked away from him. "A-Anaïs," she whispered. "Anaïs."

"Kenna-"

"Your Highnesses?" Max called them, entering the room. "The car has arrived."

Kenna nodded. "Thank you, Herr Elliot. Are the windows tinted as I requested?"

"Yes, Madame."

"And the other thing?"

"Two boxes full, Madame," Max said quietly. "Unless you need a tissue now?"

Kenna shook her head. "No, no. Thank you very much. That will be all, we'll be down in a bit."

He bowed and left, leaving the couple alone.

Kenna walked up to Bash and kissed him softly. "Mon amour?"

"Oui?"

"Seulement pour aujourd'hui," she whispered.

"And tomorrow?"

Kenna swallowed deeply. "We can... we can grieve and light a candle for him. Je t'aime."

"Je t'aime," Bash replied, hugging her tightly. "If you need to hold my hand, just do it."

Kenna pulled back a little to meet his eyes. "I won't break royal protocol. Even if everyone _understands_. We have our duties, we must follow them. No tears, no hand-holding, no kisses. Just the Duke and Duchess of Orléans being respectful with God between them."

He laughed a little. "We should leave some room for God?"

She nodded, smiling back a little. "Just for today, amour. Tomorrow, He'll understand."

...

Mary swallowed deeply, waving off the royal dressmakers and turning to Lola and Greer. She wore a golden formal dress with intricate stitching and diamonds lining the v-neck that exposed the curves of her full breasts. She wore nipple protectors, hoping that she wouldn't leak during the ceremony. Lola and Greer wrapped a purple velvet mantle edged with ermine over Mary's dress.

"Kenna _is_ coming?" She asked the women in surprise.

"Bash confirmed it to Leith who told me," Greer said sadly. "From what it seems, she was determined. Not bothering with black wear or anything. She is wearing a deep shade of blue, which could be classified as black depending on how you look at it but her and Bash will be attending together."

"Henry stressed that they should take the time to themselves. He was wondering on postponing the whole thing," Mary said.

Lola sighed. "It has to be today. Everything is already in motion."

"I feel awful-"

"About what?"

The three women turned and found Kenna standing there in a dark blue long dress and matching dress hat. She had a smile on her face but her eyes were full of pain and grief and they were red.

"Kenna!" Mary breathed out, rushing forward to hug her but Kenna raised a hand.

"Do _not_ crease your dress for the love of God," Kenna said. "Now, where is your tiara that will be switched out for the crown?"

She headed to the table where the items laid on plush pillows, busying herself into making Mary look presentable. She mumbled quietly to herself at times, lifting earrings and bracelets and thoughtfully turning to Mary to see what would go with what.

"Kenna, if you need anything-"

"These diamond-shaped diamond earrings should look good on you," Kenna cut Mary off, coming over to put them on Mary's ears. "You look stupendous. I'm jealous!"

"Says the woman who has boys and men falling at her feet," Greer said lightly.

Kenna giggled but the other three could hear how fake it was. "Well, enough banter. Let's prepare this _queen_."

"Are you sure that you are alright, Kenna?" Lola asked cautiously.

Kenna turned to smile at her. It didn't reach her eyes but it was a smile nonetheless. "I am," she said to the other women. "Thank you for asking."

Mary ignored Kenna's earlier warning and wrapped her arms around the brunette's waist, leaning her cheek against Kenna's back. "I'm so sorry, Kenna."

Kenna's eyes stung with tears but she sighed and nodded. "Let's get you ready, shall we? A queen must _never_ be delayed to her husband's coronation."

...

"You look like a king."

Francis turned away from the mirror to smile at Bash, blushing slightly. "Please, don't," he said as Bash came to stand behind him, meeting his green eyes through the mirror. "I thought I had decades until this happened. Within ten months, I've become a husband, father and soon, a king."

"You have this, Francis," Bash told him, handing him a watch box. "Open it."

Francis smiled and opened the box, gasping when he saw the watch inside. "This was Grandfather's watch. Dad gave it to _you_."

"It's yours. I know that Grandfather would never have approved of my life's choices anyway," Bash said, going over to take a seat. "So, Kenna and I are going to hold a funeral for... She said she wanted it to be just us and we're going to the Avon Cemetary to put up his tombstone with my late maternal relatives but I'd appreciate it if you, Mary and the others could come."

"Of course," Francis said. "You don't even have to ask." He did up his golden chains from left to right. "Did you name him?"

Bash nodded. "We did. Matthias Gabriel. He was so small, about 1.3lb. He looked serene, at peace. The pathologist who ran the tests to find out what happened said that his eyes were blueish-green. Like the sea. Like mine."

"Do you have an idea of what could have happened?"

"They said that it had something to do with complications of the placenta. It could have happened to anyone," Bash replied, standing up when the door opened. "Are you ready?"

Francis turned around and nodded, turning to Narcisse. "I'm ready."

...

Surprisingly, as the Archbishop of Reims fitted the crown on top of his head, Francis didn't feel nervous anymore. He felt confident, assured, proud and happy. A smile threatened to break out onto his face as he realised that his father trusted him to rule France, despite the circumstances around his father's abdication.

"Dieu sauve le roi! Dieu sauve le roi! Dieu sauve le roi!"

The coronation was taking place at the Roman Catholic Church of France and Francis rose as the Archbishop gave him a nod.

A few more rites of passage were said along with some prayers and Francis took his seat on his throne, mentally taking a deep sigh of relief. He tried not to smile when Mary knelt and smiled at him, not being seen by everyone else but a bishop who removed her tiara from her head so the Archbishop could anoint her, wrap her shoulders with the consort habit, crowned and eventually enthroned beside her husband.

Next, Catherine walked up with the new Dauphine and Duchess of Anjou in her arms. The child was anointed and wrapped up in royal cloak before being given in to her mother's arms.

"Dieu sauve la reine! Dieu sauve la reine! Dieu sauve la reine!"

Using one arm to support her daughter, Mary took Francis's hand and they rose from their seats.

The Archbishop announced: "Le Roi, la Reine et le Dauphiné de France. François, Marie et Anaïs."

It was official.

Afterwards, there was a photoshoot ceremony being taken. Many of Francis alone but quite a lot of him and Mary or him, Mary and Anaïs. There were ten photographs taken of him and his parents on either side of him. There were portraits, side-shots and many, countless photographs taken from different positions with different people. One of Francis's favourites was the one with him and his siblings, seeing how much they'd grown and now this picture would stand proudly in their family estate in Rennes.

Leaving Anaïs with Elisabeth and Margaret, Francis and Mary left the church without their habits and went to smile and wave at the crowd. They shared one modest kiss that lasted a second or two, before continuing to wave to the crowd who roared their rejoice and support.

Francis turned to Mary, giving her hand a squeeze to which she turned to him with a wide, proud smile.

He was king.


	22. The King's Royal Tour

**We're now in July because I wanted to gloss over the tour. Their official duties to _France_ will now commence and we get a glimpse of parenthood in the next chapter.**

**By the way, we need a lot more Reign stories going around. Thinking about some if I'm honest, rotational updates and everything. Still working on ATEOTB, it's not what I want to upload just yet. **

**Replies to reviews:**

**the girl with the silver arrow [chapter 21]: I live for the drama, haha! You're very welcome and thank you so much! It's great to have you on the journey. Loved the recent chapter of Queen in Waiting, wish Kennash would stop being so full of themselves and get back together, haha.**

****Quote of the chapter: "They say time heals all wounds, but that presumes the source of the grief is finite." ― Cassandra Clare, Clockwork Prince.****

* * *

Kenna turned to Bash when she noticed that they weren't alone. "Did you ask them to come?"

"I did. I'm sorry, I should have asked-"

"No," she whispered, cupping his cheek with a soft smile. "Maybe I was too hard by saying we should keep it between ourselves. I mean, they've lost a grandson or a nephew or a cousin..." Her eyes darted to where Mary held her newborn in her arms, in conversation with Marie and Kenna's parents who swooned over the little princess.

Kenna felt jealous. Her parents gushing over a baby that wasn't even their grandchild. A great-niece or something, Kenna didn't want to bother calculating what and she looked away and rested her forehead against Bash's chest.

"Afterwards, I'll have a little rest," she mumbled. "The past week has been quite draining."

She didn't sleep properly that night. She had woken up, screaming and crying and she felt awful, knowing that her husband was probably as sleep-deprived as she was.

She avoided him after the photographing ceremony yesterday, busying herself by doing her duties as Mary's head lady-in-waiting. If she was with him, she'd want to cry and hold him and just let the ground swallow them up to they could be unhappy together but that was selfish and she made it up to Mary by gifting her a glass sculpture of a tree. Mother nature for the new mother.

"Uh, we should meet the Priest," Bash said, kissing her cheek.

Kenna nodded and she linked her arm with his, heading to Diane. She stood alone, Henry and Catherine unable to attend as they left for Rennes with the younger children, leaving Charles and Henri in Francis and Mary's care at Fontainebleau as Claude, Margaret and Elisabeth did their own thing.

"We can stay at Versailles for a bit," Bash suggested. "Just for the extra protection as we go through this difficult time."

Kenna frowned. "You think people will still come after me?" She asked quietly.

Bash sighed. "This morning, there were more death threats and stupid messages. Nothing to be concerned about but they're getting creative with how they're sending them. I've increased security and I've got people occupying the estate whenever we're not there. We could go with your parents to Scotland. See your brothers and sisters..."

Kenna's eyes fell. "Yes, anything you say, Bash."

"Kenna, I want you to have a choice."

"I don't have much of that these days," she said, strained. "I mean, I didn't choose to lose our baby."

Bash stopped and turned to face her, holding her hands in his. "I want to protect you but even some matters are out of my hands. I want you to know that I will follow _your_ lead. I'm the advisor, you're the leader."

Kenna hugged him tightly. "Thank you," she whispered into his ear, pressing a long kiss on his cheek. "I want to stay. At _home_."

"Okay," he whispered back, pressing a quick kiss onto her lips before they finally made their way over to Diane. "Maman."

Diane turned to them, smiling softly. "Are you ready to say 'goodbye'?"

Kenna shook her head. "No. But it's time," she said, accepting a tight hug from Diane.

A while later, Kenna and Bash were left alone, standing in front of the tombstone, arms wrapped around each other.

_'Here Embodies the Spirit of Matthias Gabriel Valois-Angoulême-de Poitiers, Loving Son, Grandson, Nephew & Cousin. Gone From the World Too Soon but Never Too Young to Join The Lord.'_

"Shall we go home now?" Bash asked his wife, seeing the sky darken.

Kenna shook her head. "Take me to the Seine. The place where we had our first date."

...

Francis placed his phone onto the table between him and Mary, watching his wife breastfeed their child as she browsed on her tablet. He smiled, eyeing their new nanny Nadia Gomez who sat on the other side of the jet, memorising Anaïs's daily activities from sleeping to eating to napping and everything else under the sun.

He wished they could have spent another day at Fontainebleau, consoling his brother and sister-in-law in their loss, but he had to begin his royal tour. They were flying out to Italy first, then to the UK and the USA afterwards with a whole bunch of other countries trailing after.

The tour was supposed to be six months long, but with a newborn who had just got her passport done, they decided three months was enough. For the meantime, Henry and his courtiers ran France as temporary regent.

Francis's new curia regis consisted of Luca 'Luc' Narcisse as his new Head Courtier and Principal Private Secretary, Angelica Dubois as his Head Aide and Private Secretary (she also served Mary), Michel as his Head of Security with his father moving onto serving the former king and queen at Rennes, and Peter Hornswell who was an Englishman and his new Public Relations Advisor.

These four people now served the new King of France, with quite the bonus on their paychecks. There was a lot of movement and change at Fontainebleau with staff moving from Versailles to the other chateau and Francis's sisters being posted at Versailles with Fontainebleau as their official base. Mary had been glad to have Mr Jones resume his duties, now Head of Chateau Enquiries at Fontainebleau. He stayed behind much to Mary's disappointment but she didn't mind their other trusted staff.

"She eats a lot," Mary stated, placing her tablet down and stroking Anaïs's cheek as the baby slept. "So obsessed with my breasts, like her father."

Francis chuckled, not feeling shameful at all as Nadia's eyebrows raised. "We're in company, love."

Mary turned to Nadia and giggled. "I forget, you're not used to our bluntness. Do you need a drink or anything to eat?"

Nadia shook her head. "No, thank you, Your Majesty," she said softly with a smile. "I never thought you would be such kind people. Witty and friendly."

"Wait until you see him hangry," Mary jested.

Nadia chuckled. "I was surprised you hired me. Considering I'm two years older than you both and straight out of governess schooling."

Francis shrugged lightly. "You did exceptionally well in your training and studies, Madamoiselle Gomez. You're Mexican?"

"Born and raised. I moved to France when I was eighteen for university in the au-pair business," Nadia replied. "I hope that doesn't affect anything?"

"Not at all," Mary said happily. "We're all multicultural in our household. Francis and I were hoping to have our children tutored in different languages. If you're with us for a long time, which we sincerely hope you are, we would like it if you can teach Anaïs Spanish?"

Nadia gasped. "I-I thought the Duchess of Orléans was multilingual?"

Mary smiled tightly. "The Duchess is busy these days. Anyway, what do you say?"

"I say 'oui'!" Nadia replied. "Or 'si'."

Mary beamed, reaching over to squeeze the woman's hand. "Thank you so much." She glanced down at the baby. "For now, I'm sticking to breastfeeding but I have pumped some milk for bottle use if Francis and I are occupied. Her sleep times change over the weeks so you will have to adapt to that quickly-"

"I think she knows, love," Francis said, chuckling. "We gave her all those reminders."

"Yes, yes, of course," Mary mumbled, blushing. "Sorry, she's my first child."

Nadia smiled, nodding empathetically. "I've been trained in baby CPR and other many skills in order to give the best care to the Dauphine. She really is a beautiful child."

"All down to her beautiful mother," Francis stated. "Happy Mum, Happy Baby."

Mary blushed even more. "Please, stop."

"She's not as modest as she makes herself to be," Francis whispered teasingly.

"Well, she's doing a splendid job," Nadia said. "I'm glad to be a part of it."

...

"We are allowed to smile, you know?" Bash told his wife as they shared a tub of ice cream.

Kenna cringed. "I don't know. It feels like I'm betraying Matty."

"Matty?"

"Yeah," she said quietly. "Short for Matthias."

Bash smiled, placing the back of his spoon on her nose and leaving some ice cream on it. "That's cute."

"Sebastian!" She cried out, wiping her nose. "I've just done my skincare routine."

"Did you eat whilst I was at Fontainebleau?" He asked, dumping his spoon into the tub and wiping his hands with a napkin.

Kenna nodded a little, her eyes darting back to the tub as she took another spoonful. "Mhm."

"What did you eat?" He asked, getting up from the dining table to go and get her diary to see for himself.

"Bash-"

"Kenna, it's six o'clock in the evening," he stated, turning to face her. "I've been out since nine this morning to look after Charlie and Henri Jr. I don't need to come home and baby you too."

Kenna's face fell. "Don't be like that," she mumbled. "I didn't eat because I was..."

"What?"

"I went to the chapel," she told him. "I went to see Father Claudius. We fasted."

Bash's gaze softened. "Oh, right."

She nodded. "I got home an hour before you and well, I was hoping we could eat together."

"Did you find the answers you sought?"

Kenna shook her head. "Not really. It's unfair," she said, her voice breaking as tears sprung to her eyes. "I feel stupid."

"Don't be," Bash said softly, coming back to the table. "I know we're hurting but can we talk about it?"

"About what?"

"What you said about not having... any more."

Kenna sighed heavily, cupping her cheeks and resting her elbows on the table. "I don't know," she said. "I'm the problem, it's my fault that whatever happened did-"

"The doctor said that you could still go through pregnancies after this," he said. "It was just an unfortunate situation we were put in but we can go on to have a fertile life, babe."

Kenna rolled her eyes. "We'll see. I mean, my body still thinks it's pregnant. I'm milking like I'm a bloody cow and my body cramps terribly..."

Her hands were pulled down and Bash held them, pressing kisses onto them which made her close her eyes and sniffle.

"I'm sorry, I shouldn't have said anything," he mumbled. "I just... I just fell in love with the idea of being a father - we were so excited, sharing the joy with Francis and Mary with our niece... I see us with at least three kids, Kenna. I mean it. Remember what we called them? Anastasie, Robert and whatever we name the third kid... Matthias will always be in our hearts and if he was here, he'd want us to try again and be happy. He'd want us to be happy, Kenna. We'd have a bébé arc-en-ciel."

Kenna opened her eyes and stared at him. "That's beautiful," she whispered. "Rainbow baby." But then she sighed heavily. "Non, mon amour."

"Kenna-"

"Have the staff donate everything from the house," she said, getting up and heading to the fridge to get some leftovers. "I mean it, Bash."

"Including my childhood rabbit?"

Kenna paused by the microwave. "You can keep that. But I don't want to see it."

"No one will ever replace Matthias, Kenna," he said firmly. "We can still have more kids-"

"Sebastian, please," Kenna begged him, gripping the edges of the counter tightly. "Please." She couldn't do this.

Bash got up and nodded. "Fine," he said shortly. "I'll get rid of everything now."

He left the kitchen and Kenna sighed, covering her face to stop tears from falling.

...

Leith wrapped his arms around Greer's waist, planting a soft kiss onto the back of her neck. "Where are you going this late?"

Greer smiled sadly, eyeing him through the mirror as she did her makeup. "Lola and I are going to see Kenna and Bash. Do you want to come?"

"I'll drag the guys along," Leith replied, unwrapping his arms and heading to his wardrobe. "I can't believe it's been five days since they lost the baby."

"Me neither," Greer muttered, doing her blush. "I don't know how they could stand and smile at the coronation as if they weren't dying inside."

Leith pursed his lips, rifling through his tees. "Do you want children?"

"I guess I do," she said. "But we should hold off until we're ready."

"What if I was right now?"

Greer sighed. "So soon after what happened?"

"Good answer," he called out to her. "I'm not ready yet, but one day we'll have a family, yeah?"

Greer beamed happily. "Yeah," she said, putting some gloss on her lips. "So, what will you and the guys do when we get there?"

"Get out of your ways, have some drinks, talk... I don't know, anything to cheer de Poitiers up," Leith replied. "He's been there for me all of these years, it's time to repay the debt."

"That's nice," Greer said. "I just hope that they're and Mary and Francis are okay."

Leith returned to the bathroom. "I'm sure they will be, darling."

When they arrived at the gated estate, they found the gates opened and a moving van transporting baby furniture and the like from the house. Greer spotted an expensive buggy that she gifted them and she got out of Leith's car to stop the delivery men from taking it.

"Where are you taking all of this stuff?"

"The charity, Ma'am," a man said. "Duke's orders."

Miranda exited the home and gave Greer a warm smile. "Lady Seton-Norwood, welcome."

"Can you order the men to stop?" Greer asked her.

"I can't," Miranda said sadly. "The Duchess argued with the Duke about it. She requested that everything leaves the house."

"How about I take them?" Greer suggested, heading to open the boot of Leith's car.

Miranda paused, eyeing the front doors nervously before nodding and retrieving her husband. "Very well. I'll give the driver your address."

Leith got out of his car to help. "They'll regret it," he said to them.

"Doubt it. The Duchess is adamant that they will not have any more children," Max said, handing Leith a bottle steriliser.

"I know my best friend," Leith said. "He'll manage to change her mind, just wait."

...

Kenna walked passed the nursery, stopping to see that it was no longer a nursery. The staff had put up the guest bed up again with a set of drawers and nightstands with table lamps. It was like they never were having a baby.

The walls had wallpaper slapped on neatly and the windows were opened to air the room out and dry the solvent. She turned her head to the side when she heard voices downstairs and she left the bedroom, heading downstairs to greet their friends downstairs.

"Why are you guys here?" She asked, hugging them and kissing their cheeks.

Lola gave her hand a gentle squeeze. "We bought alcohol."

Kenna smiled a little but she shook her head. "Not really feeling it," she said. "I'll settle for some tea, don't stop on my behalf."

"Alright," Greer said, her and Lola leading Kenna into the kitchen as the men headed to the house bar.

"How have you been?" Lola asked cautiously, sharing a brief look with Greer behind Kenna's back.

"I've been getting there," Kenna told them. "I went to the chapel today."

"How was that?" Greer asked her.

Kenna shrugged. "Alright."

"Mary and Francis made it to Italy earlier on," Lola told her. "They went to see Francis's grandparents."

"How lovely," Kenna mumbled. "The King and Queen of Italy?"

"Yes," Lola said. "They were excited to meet their great-grandchild, hosted a ball and everything."

Kenna nodded. "That's nice," she said quietly.

Greer swallowed deeply. "So, how about we have a makeover?"

Kenna smiled a little. "No, thanks."

"Do some online shopping? Versace is calling your name!"

Kenna shook her head. "No, thanks."

"How about we just sit and drink some wine or tea in silence?" Lola suggested.

Kenna turned to her. "Yes, please," Kenna said, her voice breaking as she gripped their hands tightly.

...

"Why didn't you name her 'Caterina' after your mother? Your grandmother and I spent two weeks choosing a name fit for a queen," Francis's grandfather, Lorenzo de Medici asked before he sipped his wine.

Francis chuckled a little. "Mary and I were straying away from repetitiveness."

"She will be Queen Marie of France," his grandmother, Madeleine, stated. "Marie Antoinette and many others..."

"Yes, but she will be regnant, not _consort_," Francis told them, leading the older couple away from prying ears. "What do you think of my wife?"

Madeleine beamed. "She is a descendant of the Bourbon dynasty, the good line mind you. As are you, piccolo."

Francis blushed. "Grandmama, not here."

"You may be king, but you are still our favourite grandson," Lorenzo said, tapping Francis's chin lightly. "You chose wisely. Maria is a wonderful woman, so respectable, caring, loving and kind. Hold on to her."

"I will," Francis promised them, looking over to his wife who showed off their daughter to his many maternal relatives. "I was hoping to buy an estate in Italy. As a surprise for her giving birth to our daughter."

Lorenzo beamed. "I will have my most trusted on the case. The Queen of France deserves gold and diamonds and nothing less, piccolo. Walk with me."

The men left Madeleine to join Mary, leaving the hall. Lorenzo placed a hand on Francis's back and sighed heavily.

"Your mother told me that you will stop relying on Italy for funds," he said.

Francis nodded. "That is correct, Your Majesty."

"You are my grandson, Francesco," Lorenzo said. "This may be a difficult conversation but _never_ call me that when we're alone."

"Yes, Grandfather."

"Still too formal," Lorenzo said with a chuckle. "Your mother's doing?"

"And my father's."

"Ah, Henry," Lorenzo said. "Your father never wanted the crown. We all expected your namesake to wield the responsibility. But his death was tragic and your father was not the same afterwards. I know your parents' marriage is unconventional but they do care for each other."

Francis frowned a little. "He never loved her."

"No, but they were friends," Lorenzo replied. "I know my daughter had a child out of wedlock and I was surprised to see that your father respected that. He funded her education."

"He did what?"

"Your father may be the most stupid man in the world," Lorenzo said firmly. "But he has a kind heart. He does stupid things but makes up for them in secret, expecting no rewards."

Francis was surprised. "Well, that takes a lot of guts to be in his position."

"Indeed," Lorenzo said. "You are hereby relieved of Italian debts. Let's hope your government are smart enough to retrieve flourishing deals."

"I have faith," Francis said, stopping and turning to seal the deal with a handshake and hug. "Thank you, Grandpapa."

"There we go," Lorenzo beamed. "Now, let me introduce you to your half-uncle, Alessandro. He's not been able to stop gushing over his nephew becoming the new King of France and surprisingly enough, neither can your grandmother and I."

...

Mary giggled when Francis attacked her back with kisses, his fingers unzipping her dress as she bit her lip and waited for him to remove it. "Is our baby asleep?"

"Nadia has her," he whispered, kissing behind her ear. "Stop worrying about Annie."

Mary turned in his arms, kicking off her dress and leaving it on the ground as she pulled him towards the opulent bed they were staying in for the night. Francis undid his tie and buttons to his shirt with one hand, kicking off his shoes as he let himself be pulled to the bed.

"Your grandmother _adored_ me," she said happily.

"Well, you share a relative," Francis told her. "I can never get out of my head how we're related to the Bourbons."

"Well, they don't matter right now," Mary said, kissing him and wrapping her arms around his neck as they fell onto the bed, with him on top and laughter escaping their lips.

Mary moaned when his lips trailed down to her pulse point, shifting down to her collarbone and pressing against her nipples underneath her lacy green bra. She felt his hand slide behind her back and unlatch the strap, yanking the strapless bra off to continue kissing her soft skin.

"Can you..." She breathed out, feeling his hot breath above her belly button.

"What?" He asked teasingly, continuing to go lower.

Mary's hips buckled. "You know what I want."

"No. I'm not clairvoyant, wife."

Mary smiled a little. "Kiss me."

He headed back up and pressed his lips against hers. "Done."

"Not there," she said. "Down _there_."

Francis gripped the side of her matching underwear. "Here?"

"Yeah," she breathed out. "Take it off."

Slowly, he pulled her underwear off, giving her a feigned puzzled look. "Whatever for?"

"Francis!"

"Mary..." He grinned before attacking her inner thighs with more kisses. Instead of going up, he went down and reached her ankles. He paused thoughtfully and took his loose tie off his neck. "I'm going to try something. You can stop me at any time but do you trust me?"

Mary nodded with a smile. "I do."

"Okay," he whispered before tying her right ankle to the bedpost before retrieving another tie and doing the same for the other one.

"B-Bondage?"

"Oui, esclavage or as we're in Italy, servitù."

"Esclavage sounds sexier," she breathed out, using her elbows to sit up curiously. "We won't do this all the time, right?"

Francis shrugged. "We can just see where this goes. Do you want to try it?"

Mary nodded. "I'm safe with you," she said. "Go ahead."

Francis smiled "Okay. Right, I'm going to leave your hands for now. Baby steps."

Mary returned the smile. "Baby steps."

...

"How was the apartment?" Lorenzo asked the next morning over breakfast.

Francis shared a blushed with his wife. "Splendid, Grandpapa."

His grandfather shared a knowing look with his wife. "We put you there for a reason. Your mother and father conceived Margherita and Elisabetta there. Who knows? Nine months time, your daughter will be an older sister just like you were an older brother."

Mary choked on her juice as Francis spat his food out. His grandparents burst into laughter, leaving the younger couple red-faced as Francis's relatives laughed at their expense.

"We're still getting used to one baby," Mary said. "We're waiting until the next."

"God works in mysterious ways, signorina," Madeleine told her. "For two years I was barren after Lorenzo and I married. Over the years, I had miscarriages. Until nine months after I miscarried one baby, your mother was born. Nine is a lucky number in my life."

Mary smiled softly. "Well, never say never."

Francis turned to his grandmother who gave him a wink. He mouthed, "Thank you," to her to which she replied with a coy smile as she sipped her tea.

"The closer they are in age, the better."

"I agree," Mary said, not going against the Queen's words. "Closer bonds and it's easier to rear them because they will be at similar stages."

"Very smart," Madeleine said proudly.

Lorenzo nodded. "La mia adorabile moglie, today signifies the newfound relationship, strong and steady, between France and Italy." He raised his cup. "A Francesco e Maria."

"Francesco e Maria!" Everyone chorused, making Mary and Francis smile brightly.

...

"Hello, my name's Mckenna, this is my husband, Sebastian and we..." Kenna paused, looking down at her hands. "We lost our son eleven days ago to stillbirth."

The grief counsellor, Bertrand, nodded. "Is there any reason you both decided to come now?"

Kenna shrugged. "I don't know," she said quietly.

Bash sighed, taking a sip from the water beside him. "Well, some people suggested it but I don't know either."

"Are you currently grieving the loss?" Bertrand asked.

"We are," Kenna whispered.

"And you want to do what with this session or potentially more?"

"Get over it," Kenna stated. "Not like that but move on, I guess." She turned to Bash. "He wants more children, but I don't so. I think I'm the problem. Like, I can't let go of Matthias and ever love another baby like that again."

Bertrand nodded thoughtfully. "How many siblings do you both have?"

Kenna frowned a little. "Five, two half-brothers, one brother, two sisters."

"Twelve," Bash said. "Half-siblings, no full. Both sides."

"Do you think your parents had experiences like you did?" Bertrand asked.

"We don't know," Kenna replied. "But they did suggest it so..."

"They might have?" Bash said, sharing a glance with his wife.

Bertrand nodded. "If they had, do you think they stopped wanting the idea of having children? More or otherwise?"

"Well, my father had a vasectomy due to health reasons," Bash said. "If he could, he would have more and his wife wouldn't have minded. They're good parents to my younger siblings. As for my mother, I don't know, I'm her youngest."

"Right," Bertrand said. He looked down at his notes. "Let's talk about what you went through in Sweden."

Kenna faltered. "Why?"

"Well, the chateau's medical team forwarded both of your medical files to me. Do you think what happened in Sweden links to your fear of becoming a mother again?"

Kenna sank in her seat. "I don't have an answer for that."

"You do."

"Well," she began, swallowing deeply. "Being stalked, threatened and almost killed does put things into perspective. I couldn't save Matthias because I was stressed out from the going ons in my life. If we have another child, I won't be able to protect them. I couldn't even protect myself..."

...

The weather in England was lovely. July was hot and the sun was out. Schools and universities were mostly quiet, dealing with the straggling exam period before the long summer break and new beginnings in Autumn.

Mary and Francis met the Queen, introducing her and the Prince to their newborn before they met the Duke and Duchess of Cambridge and other senior royals of the UK throne.

The USA was boring. The President invited the couple to have a tour around the White House and to a Basketball game and 'Football' game. They smiled politely and waved and signed their autographs and took photos, but Francis and Mary knew that they would not return to the States anytime soon for business reasons. It seemed that the country did not know how to host royal families, their private entertainment businesses doing far better than the government.

Here France was, treating visitors of importance to trips down the Seine, the Eiffel Tower, the Notre Dame and many other great places of historical culture and entertainment. France was rich in history, from their palaces to their landmarks and the history behind every town, city and province.

The couple also had South Africa on their list, Diane inviting them to stay with her for their duration in Africa. It was only a brief visit before they toured Japan and left for Norway and Sweden.

Sweden was their last stop and the King of Sweden expressed his happiness that all was well and he was glad to be part of helping the French get justice for what had happened earlier in the year.

Finally reaching home on the 7th of August, Annie was seven-weeks-old and almost ready for her first official doctor's check-up at eight weeks. Mary couldn't believe how much she'd grown, all of her newborn outfits no longer fitting her as they travelled from country to country, place to place. She kept the clothes for just in case situations, re-using clothes rather than throwing them away. She could have given them to charity, but she would admit that she and Francis were in the process of trying for another baby.

Just as she was about to take Anaïs to hers and Francis's bedroom, Mary was stopped by Claude who walked with her towards the bedroom.

"Can you convince my parents to let me get married?"

Mary sighed. "What about Lissie and Margo?"

"Margo's busy with preparing for university and Lissie's taken up a charity project. Neither are actively looking for suitors," Claude explained. "And Enzo and I love each other."

"You lie about the love part."

"Yes, but I feel awful that he has to wait until we're married to pursue any relationships," she said. "If we're really having to wait, he has a friend in the Duke of Valencia. Says he is attracted to Lissie. A lot."

Mary gave Claude a wary look. "I shouldn't be the one-"

"You're the Queen of France, Mary _Valois_," Claude said. "You have the power to organise marriage proposals."

Mary scoffed lightly. "Yes, but we all know your parents deal with anything regarding their precious children. Don't get me out of favour with them, please."

"If you'd drop it in a conversation," Claude suggested. "Whisper a few sweet things into their ears, transfix them and convince them."

Mary gave her a short nod. "Fine. We're having dinner at Rennes tomorrow. I'll suggest it."

"Wonderful! His name is Duke Philip Aviz-Habsburg."

Mary winced. "Isn't he twenty-nine?"

"Your point being?"

"Not saying that older men are controlling but-"

"Elisabeth can hold her own," Claude said. "And Philip may be overbearing, but Philip's very smitten with Elisabeth already. Kept eyeing the poor soul during your wedding."

Mary eventually decided to just go along with it. "Yes, fine. You've convinced me. I like how you all come to _me_ and not Francis."

"Francis is a king now," Claude stated. "Your point is?"

"Your parents?"

"Your point still is?"

"I'm busy being a queen and a mother?"

Claude laughed hysterically. "Yes, your 205 euro per hour nanny is really great value for money! You should look into those finances."

"I will," Mary said jokingly. "Honestly, it is so much work. Francis and I have this military service we're attending on Saturday with Bash."

Claude nodded. "Very busy indeed. You barely have enough time for a break. That's only tomorrow."

"I don't know how your parents did it."

"Well, they didn't look after us hands-on," Claude replied easily. "They'd rather royal duties than child-rearing."

Mary clicked her tongue. "Speaking of children, did you visit Bash and Kenna at all whilst we were away?"

"They were quite closed off," Claude said. "I only saw them once. They invited Enzo and me over for dinner to get to know him better and well, apologise for sending him off at the baby shower. They kept their answers short and concise, didn't seem interested at all in the dinner."

"We're going to Church on Sunday, perhaps they'll be there."

"Doubt it," Claude replied when they finally reached the bedroom.

"Why do you doubt that? Kenna's religious, more especially at difficult times in her life. She'll seek guidance from God," Mary said.

"Well, that's the thing," Claude said. "Last week, they went to Scotland. We found out from Michel when we were planning to visit with some gifts. Their grief counsellor suggested a trip away from everything and to be honest, they came back even more depressed than before."

Mary sighed heavily. "I'll call them later then," she said, stopping and turning to Claude. "Would you like to hold Anaïs?"

Claude's eyes widened. "Hold... a baby?"

"You've never held a baby before?"

"Only once or twice when the younger girls were born," Claude replied. "Terrible experience."

Mary chuckled. "You will have to give Enzo children, Claude."

"Go on then," Claude tutted, opening up her arms.

Mary gently placed her child into her aunt's arms and smiled when Claude immediately knew what to do. "Who says you're not an expert?"

"Well, it comes naturally when you're one of the middle children of nine."

"God, I'm so tired," Mary said, yawning. "I've sent Nadia off for a week, she was the best during the tour. Would you-"

"Oh, hell no!" Claude cried out. "Who do you take me for? Free labour?"

Mary grinned. "Worth a try."

"Let's go find that brother of mine," Claude said, walking on. "And you can tell me all about the tour!"


	23. Wars Between Closed Hearts

**Replies to reviews:**

**the girl with the silver arrow [chapter 22]: Thank you! I was looking for a comfortable balance. They do and we'll see more of their healing as the chapters go on. More Mary and Francis parenting moments coming up. Thanks so much!**

**Baby Matthias: Died Tuesday 30th June 2020****. (Forgot to add it at the end of the last chapter.)**

**Quote of the chapter: "It is not a lack of love, but a lack of friendship that makes unhappy marriages." ― Friedrich Nietzsche.**

* * *

The drive to the military base was quiet. Bash sat across from the couple, mostly on his phone as Angelica sat beside him, going through their rounds and other things of importance to busy herself.

Mary shared a glance with Francis who responded by taking her hand and squeezing it. She gave him a smile and he returned it before turning to Bash, using his foot to nudge his half-brother's knee gently to gain his attention.

"Oui?"

"You must be excited to see your old Army friends," Francis stated.

Bash shrugged a little. "Acquaintances," he corrected. "Although General Timothée Moitessier might be glad to see me. Said I reminded him of his son."

Francis smiled. "That's nice," he said. "Any plans this evening?"

Bash shook his head. "I have the house to myself. Kenna's sister-in-law came to steal her away for some shopping this morning."

"Join us for dinner," Mary said to him. "We can invite some Army officials to eat at the chateau-"

"Dieu, non," Bash muttered, putting his phone away as the car came to a near stop. "The last thing I want to do is squander away my quiet evening with my dog for a dinner where I'll have to grin and bear all the jokes at my expense. Why do you think Bayard and the twins rejected the invitation?"

Francis chuckled softly. "Very well," he replied, studying his brother who now eyed the opening gates to the barracks. "You look _well_."

Bash never turned away from the window, his eyebrow arching in response. "How did I look before?"

"I don't know, sad?"

"My son had just died-"

"I know," Francis quickly interjected. "But you're making an effort to come today and I thank you for that." He shared a brief glance with his wife. "We were also wondering if you and Kenna would like to join us for the second month of our tour."

Something flashed through Bash's eyes but it went as quick as it came before he replied with, "I will have to check with Kenna."

"That's perfectly fine. You have until next week, after Annie's first doctor's check-up to respond," Mary told him, a smile gracing her lips in relief. "It would be nice to see the world a little bit, see the countries we haven't stopped by in. Apparently, we're heading to South Korea. You speak Korean, don't you?"

"Vaguely," Bash muttered, undoing his seatbelt when the car stopped.

The door opened and Francis exited the vehicle first, Mary following and finally Bash as the car drove on with Angelica.

The men bowed at the trio and Bash got to reacquainting himself with the men before them, introducing them to Francis and Mary expertly, without stumbling over his words and with a certain flair of familiarity and comradeship.

"Prince Sébastien, it is always an honour to see you," Timothée said, shaking his hand firmly, ten times up and down.

"Likewise, Sir," Bash said politely, much to the man's distaste. "You called me a prince, I'll keep formalities."

Francis chuckled - Mary joining him in doing so - before he said, "Thank you for having us at your service."

"Of course, Your Majesties," The General replied happily. "Right this way."

He led the couple and their bodyguards, aides and other royal personnel to the staged event on the field. The weather was beautiful, Summer well and truly here. There were white seats and three were decorated at the very front, perfect for a King, his Queen and his Prince Brother.

Everyone rose from their seats, bowing at the couple and sharing salutes with Bash as the three walked down. When they sat down, everyone else did and Timothée took to the stage.

"Thank you all for attending this service," he began, shifting through his notes at the mic. "Today, we are joined by His Majesty the King, François III, his wife Queen Marie and of course, our fellow comrade and soldier, the Duke of Orléans, Prince Sébastien." He cleared his throat. "Over the past year, we have lost good men and women in service, their duty to France and their Kings undeniable. This 2019-2020 season alone, fourteen lives have perished and today we remember them and honour them and give their families the comfort of knowing that their beloved relatives helped make France a better country. Not only France but the _world_. Please, let us bow our heads in a one minute silence."

Everyone bowed their heads and Mary felt tingly inside, glad to be a part of something as wonderful like this. Seeing the men and women who fought for France physically and not through a screen or black and white paper. Unfortunately, she was only Consort so she'd have to smile and nod as Francis handed the families their deceased relatives' honours.

After a minute had passed, the General invited Francis, Mary and Bash to the stage. Bash would collect the honour and receive the relative first, shake the relative's hand, pass the honour to Francis who would shake the relative's hand as well and hand them the honour.

When they got to the last woman, a wife of the deceased Army Officer, she walked up to Bash and gave him a look of familiarity. "I am not sure you remember me," she said quietly, getting Francis's attention quickly.

Bash frowned a little. "Non désolé."

"Bernárd? Lucrecia Bernárd? The wife of-"

"Oh," Bash said. "I am sorry for your loss," he quickly said, shaking her hand gently and moving her along.

Afterwards, with the top three generals promising to join them for dinner that evening with their spouses, the trio left to go back to Fontainebleau. To Bash, it was uneventful but eventful at the same time.

"Who was Bernárd?" Francis asked his brother once they were on the motorway.

Bash sighed. "Some man who made my life somewhat unbearable when I first joined. He'd have me do the shittiest jobs and get annoyed when I never complained and complied. Once, we came back to France for strategy reasons and his wife visited. I overheard them talking about her being targeted for being his wife. They found me and well, I requested to help so they wouldn't believe I'd tell someone about their worries. The next day, I had Max transfer fifty-thousand euros to deal with the situation."

Mary gaped. "What on Earth? Why would you help someone who treated you horribly, knowing exactly who you were?"

Francis nodded. "Yes, why?"

"Because when people need help, I won't deny them that if I can help them," Bash said. "It's in my nature to save people." He cringed a little. "I also think there was more to it than people stalking her. She's a chemical scientist at one of the leading science companies in Paris. They were working on a nerve agent and well... I think I believed that the Military was backing them to use them."

"Were they?"

"The nerve agent was scrapped," Bash replied. "But the Bernárds were always shifty about the subject. It doesn't matter now, the government made sure to stop any moves towards anything damaging to and for the country."

Mary sighed in relief. "Thank God. The last thing we need is an outbreak that kills people and our Military to be involved."

"Indeed," Bash mumbled. "There's a lot that happens behind the scenes in France. You have to know the right people to find out exactly what."

"And do you?" Mary asked him. "Know the right people?"

Bash smirked, not turning to face them as he spoke, "I know more than the right people, Your Majesties. Some may consider _me_ one of them."

"Just how much influence do you have?" Mary asked, eyes wide in surprise.

Francis chuckled, taking his wife's hand and kissing the back of it. "Bash's aliases have allowed him a sense of security _and_ a chance to get some intel. It was risky but worth it. A lot of people trust him, considering they hated him for being illegitimate of none of his own fault. They project their hate at Diane and use him to get what they want at high prices."

"So, you're something out of a mafia movie," Mary said lightly, making them laugh. "Interesting. As Kenna would say-"

"I'll happily keep my secrets to the grave," Bash interjected, sending her a kind wink. "Speaking of my wife, I better go and check the damage she has made on our joint bank account now..." He retrieved his phone and proceeded to check his bank accounts.

"You're never going to win when shopping is involved," Mary told him.

"Well, today I have," Bash said to them, showing his phone screen to the couple. "_Nothing_ was taken out. And they've been at it for five hours now."

"Perhaps, Kenna's grown up," Mary replied proudly.

"Or her sister-in-law must have been footing the bill," Francis suggested, making them laugh.

Bash shrugged. "I'll see when she comes home later. Either way, it's nice that she's getting out of the house more and being sociable."

"And you?" Francis asked.

"Oh, I have always hated people," Bash replied lightly. "Even right now, I have to stop myself from sticking needles in my eyes just from being in your company."

"How lovely!" Mary said, laughing.

Bash smiled softly, turning to stare out the window. "Thank you, though. For today."

"You're welcome, Bash," Francis replied.

...

"Duke Philip Aviz-Habsburg," Mary announced, turning to her in-laws. "I found out that he has a successful business in Spain. His family are old money who are investing in new ventures. He's also looking for a wife, he's nearing his thirties."

Catherine raised an eyebrow. "He is a good suitor for one of our nieces," she said with a pondering hum. "He's quite handsome. Shame our nieces don't hold candles to our daughters."

Mary laughed a little. "That's why I brought him up," she said to her and Henry. "Elisabeth."

"What about her?" Henry asked.

"The Duke has taken a liking to her," Mary told him. "A friend of a friend said he was planning to whisk her away to Valencia next weekend." She smiled. "Sun, Mediterranean sea, Football... Didn't Lissie say she supported Valencia FC?"

Catherine smirked. "I see."

"What's going on?" Francis asked, looking up from feeding Anaïs. "Since when did Lissie support a Football team?"

"Shows how much you know about your sister," Henry said lightly. "Very well, Your Majesty."

Mary blushed. "Please, don't-"

"If you believe the Duke of Valencia is a suitable match for Elisabeth, then Catherine and I do not object," Henry told her. "It is unfair of me to pass those duties onto you, finding matches for my children. Better you than me. You know who they prefer, what they are fond of in order to find the best match possible."

Catherine sipped her wine slowly. "I'll arrange a meeting between Philip and Elisabeth. See where that takes us."

"Great," Mary said, smiling brightly.

If she could help Elisabeth, she could help Claude.

...

"Alright, just put that strap there and..." Mary turned to Francis proudly, using a hand to brush his hair away from his face. "That's how to change a nappy."

Francis turned to her and grinned before looking down at their curious daughter. "It's taken me this long to do this?"

"You have been busy," Mary muttered, kissing his cheek and resting her forehead against his cheek as he played with Annie's hands which clasped around his thumbs.

"Her hands are so tiny!"

"They really are," Mary said with a giggle. "Parenthood suits you."

Francis smiled coyly. "Wait until you see me with a baby carrier."

"Oh my God, that would look so sexy," Mary told him. "A total DILF."

"Mary! Young ears are aware," Francis cried out, covering their little girl's ears. "Don't worry, baby girl. Your mama is just obsessed with me."

Mary scoffed. "In your dreams, Francis," she said, leaving his side. "Dress Anaïs for bed, please."

She headed to their bedroom where their daughter's Moses basket was beside their bed. The nursery was joined to the bedroom, having been a former private sitting room for the couple which they never really used in the first place.

Just as she was about to get in the bed, she was stopped by a knock on the door and she walked over and opened it.

"Charlie, what is it?"

Charles shifted nervously on his feet. "I've got a date tomorrow."

"Is that right?" Mary asked, gesturing for him to come inside and take a seat on the chaise with her.

"Yes," Charles said. "I've been building my relationship with Anabelle Trastámara, you know, my friend that I spoke to you about?"

Mary grinned. "The girl you've been flirting with?"

"Yes," Charles said, blushing. "She's from Spain, the Archduke of Aragon's daughter."

Mary gasped in surprise. "The Archduke's daughter attends your school?"

"She does. A lot of nobles from Europe do," Charles replied.

"So Archduke Maximillian and Archduchess Maria's daughter?" Mary asked, trying to rack her brain around the matter.

Charles nodded. "Elisabeth Anabelle? Goes by Anabelle because all the people we know have the same fucking name?"

Mary nodded, chuckling a little. "Okay, I know her face now. I've been quizzed on and introduced to so many people. The Austrian-Spaniards, am I correct?"

"Oui," Charles said. "Now that you know who she is, can you help me?"

"With what?" Francis asked, entering with Anaïs in his arms.

"My date, Francis!" Charles told him.

Francis smirked, placing Anaïs into Mary's arms. "Oh, tell us about her!"

Charles blushed furiously. "She's wonderful. Her eyes are brown, like chocolate. Her smile is like a million rainbows come together-"

"You're messing with us," Francis cut him off, laughing.

Charles nodded, grinning. "Anyway, she is great. I don't want to screw things up because..."

"You might have to find a suitor in the near future," Mary stated. "We see."

"And as King and Queen, I need your advice," Charles told them.

Francis smiled. "Be yourself. I know that it is clichéd but it's true. If it helps, Mary, Mother, Father and I can meet with her parents."

"I don't want to scare her off!" Charles cried out. "I'm the King's brother and if you invite her and her family over, I'll be sure to _never_ be a consideration to her!"

"Urgh fine," Francis muttered. "Just go on the date and see where it goes. If she likes you, fine. If she doesn't, fine. Either way, you're only sixteen, you don't need to think about marriage or whatever. Or has Claude got to you?"

"Claude can go fu-"

"Do _not_ swear in front of my almost two-month-old baby," Francis cut him off.

Charles smiled wryly. "Yes, Your Majesty," he said. "I better go. I want to get an outfit ready!"

"Remember," Mary began. "Be yourself, Charlie."

Charles headed to the door and nodded. "I will. Thanks," he said before leaving.

"Right, it's bedtime for all of us now!" Mary said, shifting on the bed to place Anaïs into the Moses basket.

"Goodnight, Beautiful," Francis said, kissing his wife and moving onto their daughter. "And goodnight, Princesse!"

...

Mary was awoken by the sound of Anaïs crying. Just as she was about to move, Francis stopped her, pressing a quick kiss on the top of her head before lifting the baby up into his arms and taking her to the nursery for some peace. It was just shy of three in the morning and he headed to the small kitchenette that was kindly inserted into the nursery.

As he took a milk bottle from the fridge, he went over and single-handedly filled the kettle with water and set it to boil before going to the rocking chair and taking a seat.

Anaïs's wide blue eyes looked up at him and an idea came to mind when he went back into the bedroom and retrieved his iPad from his bedside table before returning to the rocking chair in the nursery.

He went to the recording device and looked down at his precious daughter who stared back up at him, her cries now silenced. He began the recording, placing the iPad onto the table beside him.

"Anaïs, this is your father, Francis, speaking. As of now, Saturday the 8th August, you are still our firstborn child obviously and future Queen of France. You are loud, got a right pair of lungs in you as your mother, Mary, says. You are beautiful, your eyes as blue as mine. You wake us up at ungodly hours and we feel guilty if we cart you off to a nanny who is only doing her job and doesn't complain. You're looking up at me," he paused, a smile gracing his lips when she yawned, squinting her eyes shut as her mouth was wide open. "You've just yawned. You're curious and you're growing a lot. You're perfect and sweet and you've got light brown hair, verging on going blonde. I can't believe you're my daughter at times. I catch myself staring in disbelief that your mother and I made you, something pure and perfect - you."

He stood and placed her in the crib before going to prepare the bottle. When he was done, he checked the warmth and satisfied, retrieved his daughter and sat back down.

"I've just retrieved your bottle," he stated. "It's three in the morning, about seventeen minutes past. Your mother's tired, I've let her sleep so you and I could have some time together. I've been really busy, but I'll work on that, my darling." He put the bottle in her mouth and she immediately began to drink, her eyes still warily looking up at him as if she was contemplating hitting him for talking so much. "I'm feeding you now and you hate that I'm disturbing your peaceful meal with my talking. I'm sorry, gorgeous but that's me. Mr Talks-A-Lot. I get that from my mother. Don't tell her."

Anaïs began to choke on the liquid and he quickly removed the bottle, gently patting her back as she glared at him. At least that was what it looked like. When she was better, he kissed her forehead and tried the bottle again, but she rejected it with her mouth clamping shut and whines coming from her lips.

"Alright. That's enough for now," he said. "You're greedy but even you know your limits, darling. I love you so much Anaïs, God I'm even about to cry." His voice became choked up and he laughed when she stuck her tongue out a little, her barely-there brows furrowing. "You look so funny, baby girl. But you're just perfect."

The next morning, Mary found her husband fast asleep on the chair with their daughter asleep on his chest. A smile graced her face and she snapped a picture.

...

After Sunday Service had finished, Elisabeth was whisked to Valencia via the Duke's private jet. He had met her at his airstrip before taking her down to his estate, watching as her eyes calmly took everything in.

As they now sat in his conservatory with lemonade and cakes between them, Elisabeth turned to him and smiled softly.

"You're not so bad looking," she said.

Philip held a hand to his mock wounded heart. "I am glad I attract Her Highness's taste," he replied.

She playfully rolled her eyes and took a sip from her drink. "Marriage has never crossed my mind before my brothers got married."

"Same here," Philip replied. "I travelled all over the world five times over and settling down just got less and less attractive to me. But maybe I found that to be because I never found the one."

"You believe in that?" She asked dubiously.

"Your brother and his wife have found that," Philip stated. "Engaged even before birth."

"What a wonder," Elisabeth mumbled. "I'm not like my brother or _brothers_, plural. My heart does not open easily."

Philip nodded. "I can see that."

She turned to him. "I'm more rational. I do what I have to, to survive. Should I need to get married, then sure. Should I need to have children, then yes again. I weigh the pros and cons. The only keeper of my heart is God."

"What if I said I was Protestant?"

"Our children would be raised Catholic."

Philip chuckled. "Very well. Although I _am_ Catholic. Just testing what you believed in. So, children?"

Elisabeth nodded, turning away from him. "We will have sex twice. To produce two heirs and that is it."

"You want lovers?"

"No."

"You want to be a Valois?"

Elisabeth nodded a little. "Being my father's daughter is all I have. I am the second child of nine. Well, third if you're referring to my father. My family's protection is all I need. I'm sorry that I can't offer more."

"Who hurt you?"

"Sorry?"

"Who hurt you, Elisabeth Valois?" Philip asked softly.

Elisabeth scoffed. "No one. I just do not believe in engaging in wifely duties if we are not in love more than I need to."

"Very well," Philip whispered. "So, we're in agreement?"

"A contract will need to be written. I will give you two children and we will divorce after ten years of marriage. By then, I'll be thirty and still able to remarry. No lovers on both parts, we have reputations."

Philip smirked a little. "Maybe, I'll change your mind in ten years."

"Your first wife, Maria Manuela left you after finding out she was barren. Your second wife, Mary Tudor-Aragon who is my sister-in-law's cousin, left you after she kept having miscarriages and couldn't cope with breaking your heart any longer," Elisabeth said, one leg over the other. "I doubt we'll last ten years but we'll see."

"You've already made an opinion of me based on my relationship history. I had those sealed, how did you..." He started to chuckle. "You have contacts, your half-brother is _the_ contact. What else did he find out about me?"

"Parents died in a car accident when you were thirteen. Your majordomo raised you, tutored you, treated you like his own son," Elisabeth said. "Courteous and gracious, a good man with a good heart but terrible love life. You adore art. You know Latin, Spanish and Portuguese. Two younger sisters, Maria and Juana."

Philip offered her a cake and she declined. "Tell your brother that he is a good one, finding all of that for you. Some of those facts are unknown. So, Duchess de Berry, tell me about you."

Elisabeth smirked. "No. You'll just have to find out after we get married."

"Oh, is that so?"

"Very much so."


	24. A Colourful Look Into Marriage

**Quote of the chapter: "If I get married, I want to be very married." ― Audrey Hepburn.**

* * *

"A what?" Bash asked Kenna as they ate dinner. "Colour Run? What's that?"

Kenna slid the leaflet over to him. "I printed it off. It's this charity event that raises money for different causes. Uh, there are still babies in that hospital, babies who are fighting for their lives. We can raise money for families struggling with medical bills and children with disabilities or even hospital accommodation bills for relatives. I've signed myself up to run tomorrow. It's like a marathon. I figured now my knee's back to fighting fit, I should put myself out there more and do things I've lost touch of doing."

Bash nodded approvingly, scanning through the leaflet. "That's a great idea. Do you want to call Ariadne to set up your social media coverage and-"

"I don't want any publicity," Kenna told him. "I'm not going to profit off our son's death or any other child's for that matter. I don't care what people think about me, the ones who matter know who I am." She reached over the table and placed her hand on his hand. "I'm sorry that I've been distant. I just felt like I had no control over anything and therapy is helping and most of all, you. So, thanks. This time last year, we didn't even know who the other was."

Bash smiled softly. "Indeed," he mumbled. "I should thank you as well. Before I had no direction when it came to where I wanted life to take me. Now I do. You. My place is with you."

Kenna grinned and took the leaflet from him, looking it over. "You can come if you want."

"Of course, I'll come," he said. "So, Francis and Mary were wondering if we'd join them for the second month of their tour."

Kenna paused, her eyes rising to meet his. "A whole month?"

"Yes," Bash said, sipping his water. "It will be interesting, rewarding. How's your Korean?"

Kenna let out a soft chuckle. "Heh. Well, uh, a whole month with King, Queen and Dauphine? Anaïs?"

Bash nodded slowly. "Anaïs will be there, yes."

"When do we have until we decide?"

"I think Tuesday. They're going for her eight-week check-up. They're leaving that evening."

Kenna swallowed deeply. "No, I don't want to go," she told him. "I've got all these events to set up and attend... You can go if you want."

"If you're not going, I'm not going," Bash said firmly. "But don't do this to avoid Anaïs. I know you're hurting but you can't be upset that our king and queen have an heir."

Kenna covered her face. "I'm not avoiding any-"

"You ran out of Sunday Service like the Flash," Bash stated. "Come on, Kenna."

Kenna let out a soft sigh. "Fine. But we're not going. I've got things to do, people to meet, lives to change... A party to host... A summer BBQ, how about that?"

Bash winced. "No," he said. "No parties, Kenna." He stood, lifting his wine from the table. "Don't stay down here too long. You've got an early morning with that Colour Run."

Kenna gave him a bright smile. "I'll be up soon," she promised him, accepting a soft kiss on the lips. "Take a bottle, will you?"

"Are you sure you want a few glasses before you run tomorrow _morning_?"

Kenna nodded. "I can hold my drink," she said. "I've never had a hangover too. Just humour me."

"As you wish, ma femme chérie."

...

The next day, Mary waved and smiled at the crowd who turned when they noticed her and Francis getting out of their car. Their team led them towards Bash who gave them both sparkling water to drink as they turned to the starting line of the race.

"Oh, I didn't expect coloured powder to be used!" Mary said, seeing people throw the coloured dust at each other.

Bash turned to her. "It's called a _Colour_ Run for a reason," he said lightly. "Normally Kenna would be against the idea but I've found her to be quite an outdoorsy woman."

"She was captain of our Football team," Mary told the men. "Captain of our Netball team. And surprisingly, captain of our Athletics team. She lived outdoors, practically."

"We learn something new about each other every day," Francis said in wonder. "Where is she?"

Bash turned over to the starting post. "Near the front, I believe. Miranda and Max are running with her. She's safe."

Francis nodded and turned around to see four more people entering the VIP section. He gave them a smile, calling Mary and Bash's attention over to their new guests.

"We're here to show our support," Margo told them.

"Philip couldn't make it," Lissie said, using her fan to beat the heat. She looked over at Enzo. "Well?"

"I'm sorry, Your Highness?"

"Won't you help your future sisters-in-law sit down?"

Enzo blushed, leading the two women over to their seats. "I apologise-"

"Don't," Francis said, chuckling. "She's messing with you."

"Oh," Enzo mumbled.

"Why don't you help me get us some binoculars, Enzo?" Francis asked him, leading the man off anyway as Mary went over to Margo, Lissie and Claude.

The three women stood and she waved her hand dismissively, taking a seat and crossing her legs. "It's very _hot_."

"It is," Claude agreed. "I hope the Duchess is very hydrated."

"She'll be fine," Bash's voice called out. "She's run many marathons before."

"She has," Mary affirmed. "She'll finish this in no time! Just wait and see."

...

Three-quarters into the run, Kenna found an old woman starting to get tired. She slowed down, letting other people pass before jogging up to the woman who had begun to make her way to the side of the track.

She placed a hand on the woman's back. "Excusez-moi, ça va?"

The woman breathed heavily. "Bien, bien," she mumbled, waving Kenna off.

Kenna nervously turned to where Miranda and Max were and she waved them off. "I've got this."

"But the Duke said-"

"Miranda, Max, finish the race."

Max handed her their water bottles. "We'll keep one minute ahead and look back for you each time."

"Very well," Kenna replied, handing the woman her water bottle as the couple jogged on. "Madame, laissez-moi vous aider. Nous pouvons le faire ensemble."

_Let me help you, woman. We can do this together_, Kenna mentally thought, her words coming out in French.

"You don't sound French," the woman said in English. "Foreign?"

Kenna blushed. "British," she said. "Parlez vous anglais?"

"Oui," the woman said, nodding. "Lydia."

"I'm K-Rachel," Kenna said, not wanting to be scorned or pushed away. She watched as the woman took small sips. "Are you alright?"

"My hip," Lydia mumbled. "I'm running to fund a hip replacement abroad. To see my son over there too and recover with him."

Kenna smiled at her. "Well, Lydia, I'll help you get to the finish line. Come on."

She slipped an arm around Lydia's shoulders and her other hand reached out to hold Lydia's hand and they began to walk. Eventually, they settled on a small jog and even though it was painful for the old woman, she kept going and Kenna squeezed her hand in pride.

"You've got this, Lydia!"

"Merci, Rachel!"

Within time, the finish line was in their sights and Kenna wrapped her arm around Lydia's waist as the woman's arm went over her shoulders and Kenna held her hands tightly. They picked up speed, wanting to get to the refreshments soon and end the race.

"Almost there!" Kenna told her. "You've almost made it!"

Lydia's eyes watered. "I-I don't know what I'd do without you. You are God's blessing, Rachel. God bless you!"

They passed the finish line and a prompter gave them their time: 2 hours, 39 minutes.

Lydia began to sob in her joy and Kenna helped her over to a wheelchair with some medical personnel who began attaching an oxygen mask over the woman's head.

As Kenna went to get her some water, Lydia pulled her hand back and shook her head. "Lydia," Kenna said softly. "I'm just-"

"Thank you so much," Lydia rasped out. "Thank you. Merci, merci..."

Kenna's own eyes watered and she squeezed Lydia's hand and placed a soft kiss on the woman's forehead. "No, thank _you_," she whispered, before walking off and accepting some orange juice in a bottle from Miranda.

"What you did was wonderful," Max told her with a bright smile.

"The cameras have caught it," Miranda said lowly, spotting paparazzi. "Let's get you to the shower room."

After getting showered and dressed in a white summery dress with some white wedges, Kenna was led to the VIP tent where she was surprised by champagne bottles popping and cries of 'congratulations!' being thrown at her. She gasped and laughed, awkwardly waving at everyone.

"T-Thanks for coming," she said, meeting Bash's eyes. "I wasn't expecting you all to be here."

Bash handed her a flute of champagne. "Everyone came to show their support. We saw what you did for that-"

"No," Kenna said, raising a hand. "Don't talk about it."

"Right," Margo mumbled, giving her a tight hug. "Well done! You've done amazing! You looked like a warrior goddess, the different coloured powder in your hair and clothes..."

"Dare I say," Claude began cheekily. "You looked _sexy_ with all of that. Do you not sweat at all?"

Kenna giggled, rolling her eyes as she walked over to hug Mary and Francis. "Perspiration isn't my thing."

"Are you and Bash vampires?" Francis said jokingly, clinking his flute with hers. "We're proud of you."

"Truly," Mary added. "Matthias would have been so proud of his mama."

Kenna froze before downing her drink and moving away to take a seat. She turned and saw some men with cameras, taking snaps of them. The images would be blurry and Kenna cheekily flipped them off before sitting back in her seat and sighing heavily.

"Kenna, I'm sorry-"

"No," Kenna cut Mary off. "I should stop living in the past. I've been childish. Avoiding you, avoiding little baby Annie... I'm sorry."

Mary smiled, sitting beside her and squeezing her hand. "I'll call Lola and Greer, see if they'd like to hang out before we go for the second part of the royal tour. Oh, I can't wait to explore places with you-"

"Didn't Bash say?" Kenna asked, frowning. "We're not going."

Mary's face fell. "Oh. N-Nevermind-"

"It's not anything to do with what's happened. I've just got some projects I've been working on," Kenna quickly explained. "Today was only the beginning. I'm seeing some members of the parliament about the proposal of temporary housing for relatives with hospitalised family members, babies with illnesses and other things. Something good can come out of this."

Mary smiled brightly and nodded. "Yes," she said. "I agree. Good job. I wish you nothing but success."

Kenna sighed in relief. "Thanks, Mary."

"I should stop Francis from drinking more," Mary said, getting up. "He's going to stay up with his little princess again."

"Oh?"

"He's started these voice recordings for her," Mary explained. "It's the most cheesy but adorable thing in the world. I'll play it for you one day if he lets me. Something tells me it's a daddy-daughter thing."

Kenna beamed. "Francis is a wonderful father. And an even better king."

"He is," Mary said. "Anyway, I'll leave you our little running queen."

Kenna giggled and blew a kiss her way, watching Mary walk back to Francis and Bash. She returned her gaze back to the track and sighed, her smile leaving her face.

...

Francis showed the newspaper to his wife as they drove to the Trastámaras' estate with Charles. "Kenna didn't get what she wanted. The woman did a full interview and everything, gushing over her and the fact she gave her middle name. This is actually in Kenna's favour for once."

Mary tutted. "I wish it wasn't like that," she said. "These newspapers attacked her for losing her baby and now, they're praising her for helping one elderly person across a finish line? They're so bipolar, it's disgusting and ridiculous."

"I know," Francis mumbled. "But we can't do anything about it." He looked up when they arrived at the gates. "Charles."

Charles froze. He was called that in serious situations. "Yes, Your Maj-"

"_Francis_," the King corrected. "Anyway, depending on how today goes, Annabelle could very well become your future wife. I don't need to remind you how to behave. No cheeky kisses behind closed doors or-"

"Francis," Mary said, laughing a little. "_We_ shared cheeky kisses behind-"

"Mary! Charles is sixteen, do not give him ideas!"

Charles laughed, shaking his head a little. "I'll behave."

Francis nodded, giving his wife a playful glare. "Good."

They were greeted by the Archduke, Archduchess and their nine children, all in age order. It shocked Mary but she didn't show it, all she knew was that the French nobles seemed to be very fertile indeed with their many children. She was _not_ going beyond three. Four if they only had one son in hopes of getting a second son but no more.

"Your Majesties," Maximillian greeted them with a bow. "Your Highness." Another bow, but this time the head.

His wife followed after along with their children, the ones who understood what was going on as the three-year-olds and one-year-old ignored them mostly.

"Mind the children," Maria said jovially. "They wanted to meet a real-life king. They will not be attending the meal. Only Anna, Rudolph, Elisabeth and Ernest."

Mary reminded herself that Elisabeth was Annabelle. It was confusing and Charles was right, everyone they knew had the same damn name and she smiled to herself. She caught Charles' eyes and gave him a quick wink which no one else noticed.

Francis sat at the head of the table as Mary sat to his left. Maximillian took the other end, his own wife on his left as his daughter took his right and Charles took Francis's right.

"We were surprised to learn that the King of France's brother had his eye on our Elisabeth," Maximillian said as the butler served them wine.

Mary politely declined much to the other couple's surprise. "Breastfeeding," she explained. "It is better than formula in their formative months."

Maria beamed. "Indeed. I breastfed my children until two years of age. Are you going to do the same?"

Mary shared a glance with Francis. "I hope to, Your Grace," she replied.

"That is wonderful," Maximillian said, returning the conversation to his older daughter. "Elisabeth cannot stop talking about her dear friend, Prince Charles. You go by 'Max' in school, do you not?"

Charles nodded. "Yes, Your Grace," he replied. "My middle name is Maximillian, Your Grace."

"Maximillian is a strong name," Maximillian said proudly. "I have no doubt that you will be a suitable match for my daughter."

"Father, Max-Charles and I have been friends since we were eight," Annabelle told her father. "It is only recently, we've grown fond of each other and with Their Majesties permission I would wish to maintain a public relationship with His Highness, the Duke of Touraine."

Francis smiled. "So eloquent, Your Ladyship," he said. "I do not see any reason to reject your proposal."

Maria beamed at her daughter. "We have been training her since she was a girl. We had only expected a marriage proposal between a comté but a prince is never turned down."

"Then it is done," Francis said, taking Charles' hand. "Six years of relationship will lead to marriage between Prince Charles and Lady Elisabeth Trastámara."

"A toast?" The Archduke proposed.

"Oui."

"To Prince Charles and his future bride, Elisabeth," the Archduke said, all of them raising their glasses.

"To Prince Charles and Elisabeth!"

...

"...Just set a date so Enzo and I can marry!"

"Philip and I are taking things slow-"

"Mother and Father said that we could only marry if you and Philip-"

Francis entered the room, an amused smile on his face. "Sisters."

"Urgh," Claude said, rolling her eyes. "Francis."

"Your Majesty," Lissie said teasingly.

Francis chuckled. "What's the argument about this time?"

"Please, can you talk with Lissie and Philip to set a date for their wedding, so Enzo and I can marry early next year?" Claude asked him. "We have duties we need to perform in Europe and it will look better for our publicity if we're married whilst we perform them."

Francis slowly nodded. "That is true," he said, turning to Lissie. "Tomorrow, Philip will attend a meeting with Mary and me before we organise our second month of tour. We should aim for the wedding to be in November, leaving late January for Claude's wedding."

Lissie gaped. "B-But-"

"I am sure that Mother can help you source the best material for your dress," Francis cut her off.

"My birthday is in November," Claude told him.

Francis nodded. "And the wedding will be _after_. Your wedding will come place at the end of January to not interfere with Mary's birthday."

Claude nodded in agreement. "Very well. Thank you, brother."

"You're welcome," Francis said, turning to Lissie. "I'm sure you and Philip will make things work. Mother and Father have agreed on the matter, Mary and I have signed it off... We're drawing up a timeline of your relationship as we speak. More public appearances with Philip, sell the story and then you can have your divorce after ten years."

Lissie grinned happily. "Wonderful," she said before turning and leaving the room through the other doors.

"So..." Claude began. "Can I wear Marie Antoinette's tiara-"

"No."

"Worth a try," Claude mumbled, leaving as well.

...

"Imagine if our daughter was married to a future king?" Francis asked his wife as they settled for bed that night.

Mary rolled her eyes playfully. "No more talk about marriages and children. And _no_ our children will not be married into the English Throne. I am sure there are decent members of society of _their_ choosing that they'll marry. And it's not like any other child after Annie needs to marry."

"We can only pray," her husband replied. "That our daughter marries a wonderful man and has a lot of children to continue the Valois line."

Mary yawned. "Hmm, indeed."

"Speaking of children," Francis trailed off, placing a hand on her stomach. "Do you think you could be pregnant?"

"This soon?" Mary asked, incredulous. "Babe, we're barely trying!"

"But every chance is one step closer to Annie being a big sister," her husband said, grinning.

"So broody," Mary muttered, slamming him with one of her small pillows. "It's been almost two months since we had her. I doubt it."

"My grandmother spoke about that apartment for a reason," Francis said cheekily as his hand snuck up her shirt. "My twin sisters, the elder ones, were born thirteen months after-"

"You will jinx things, Francis," Mary told him. "Let's not put too much thought into it. Please?"

Francis nodded, kissing her cheek. "Sorry."

"No, don't be," she replied happily. "I'm glad you want kids with me. Trust me, we're making beautiful babies, look at Annie for an example but I just don't want to shove this in Bash's and Kenna's faces."

"Oh, I didn't even think... I'm a shitty brother," Francis said, covering his eyes. "Well, if it happens, then I'm sure they'll be supportive anyway?"

Mary shrugged. "We will see," she replied, kissing his lips. "Should we... have some mummy and daddy time before the blue-eyed monster wakes up and demands our attention?"

Francis grinned as she climbed onto his chest. "Hey, Beautiful."

"Hi, Handsome!" She replied, leaning down to kiss him. "I love you so much."

"I love you too, Mary. Forever and always."


	25. Plans Set In Place

**"To us, family means putting your arms around each other and being there." - Barbara Bush.**

* * *

"Mary and Francis invited us to Fontainebleau to eat dinner with them, Elisabeth and Philip," Bash announced to his wife, showing her his phone where Francis has texted him. "I believe it is going to also be used to discuss christening details."

Kenna nodded slowly. "I see," she replied, giving him his phone back. "I guess we _are_ Annie's godparents and it does need to be official."

"Any second child of theirs, Elisabeth and Philip will be godparents to them," Bash said. "It's the rules, to have siblings act as godparents. Although something tells me that they will switch things up. Maybe have four - two sets of godparents. Perhaps, not even a sibling. Who knows?"

"Hmm," Kenna hummed, returning to her work. "Do you think that Catherine will allow me to join the FARS team?"

"I thought we were meant to _avoid_ her?"

Kenna shrugged a little. "Ariadne conspired with Mary's own secretary to try and put things in _my_ favour. Following the Colour Run events, people are slowly warming up to the idea of having me in the family." She sighed, rubbing her face. "I don't know. I don't want to be _public_ so much but at the same time, I'd like to stop reading horrible articles about me. I get it, I wasn't always a perfect, little lady and I do have expensive tastes and spend a lot of money atrociously but I am human at the end of the day and I deserve some respect. If not for my sake, but for yours as you represent France and in turn, your brother."

"I'm sure everything will be fine," Bash said, rubbing her shoulders. "The offer to join the tour is still on."

"Then, they'll just say that I'm stealing Mary and Francis's thunder!" Kenna replied, rolling her eyes. "I can't win with them."

"Then _forget_ about them," Bash told her, pressing a kiss on the top of her head. "And just focus on us, our friends and our families. They know who you are, _I_ know who you are. Deep breaths and go and get changed."

Kenna nodded, turning to purse her lips. "Kiss?"

Bash smiled, kissing her lips softly. "Je t'aime."

"Je t'aime aussi," she replied quietly before getting up and heading upstairs.

...

"Is everything to your liking, Your Majesty?" Jones asked Mary, receiving a roll of the eyes.

"Jones, you are too formal for my liking," she told him.

"I apologise for upsetting you-"

"Not at all," Mary said, smiling softly. "Ma'am or better yet, _Mary_ is perfectly fine. I am twenty-one years old, and I see you more as a father-figure than an employee. You're honest and kind to me. Thank you."

Jones was flushed. "Y-Your-_Ma'am_, you're welcome. Most welcome. So you approve?"

"I do," Mary said. "Although make sure that nutmeg has _not_ been used for the desserts. The Duchess de Orléans is allergic."

"Very well," Jones said, bowing and leaving just as Francis entered and admired the room.

"Very... grand!"

Mary scoffed lightly. "It's a dinner party - our first one as King and Queen. No matter how small the audience we're receiving, it must be perfect. I want everyone to know that I can run a household. Not just any household but _Fontainebleau chateau_. Versailles was just practice."

"Chateau de Fontainebleau is at your bidding, my Lady," Francis said teasingly, bowing dramatically.

"Oh, a king who bows. What if I can make him kneel?"

Francis gasped. "Later on," he promised her, kissing her cheek quickly before Elisabeth entered with Philip.

"Your Majesties," Philip greeted them, bowing low as Lissie rolled her eyes and kissed their cheeks. "Is this all for us?"

They turned to the table and Mary blushed a little.

"Elisabeth told me you liked sole meunière?" Mary asked, gesturing for the couple to take drinks from the bar.

"I do," Philip said. "I've grown accustomed to French cuisine. I aim to try more after Elisabeth and I marry."

Lissie raised her eyebrows but sipped from her drink. "We're not dining alone? I thought this was to plan for our wedding?"

Francis nodded. "And to formally begin planning Anaïs's christening. Bash and Kenna are coming."

"Oh," Lissie said. "Are you sure about your decision?"

"What's wrong with it?"

"Well, the Duchesse de Orléans' media presence has not been so... _positive_ lately. It will do you better to choose someone else for the role," Lissie explained, shrugging lightly.

"Someone like you?" Mary asked her, with an eyebrow raised.

"If you want," Lissie replied with a coy smile. "I was thinking more on the lines of Margaret. She's been pushed to the background lately. No marriage prospects, bookworm, _boring_. She needs an edge, something to put her out there and show the world that she's still a part of the family. I may be the eldest daughter, but even _I_ let the youngest siblings shine."

Francis turned to Mary. "She's not wrong..."

"Francis, we've already-"

"Margo has nothing going for her. We ought to make her feel a part of the family. I'm sure Kenna will understand," Francis cut her off gently. "And after their loss, do you really think it's _kind_ to ask such a thing?"

Mary sighed. "Fine. As you wish," she said, a little snappily but she kept her composure and rejected a drink offered to her. "I'm being cautious."

"Trying again already?" Lissie asked, surprised. "Wow, you really are aiming to be Henry and Catherine 2.0. Good luck."

Mary rolled her eyes just as Bash and Kenna entered, heading straight to where they were at by the bar. "Glad you could make it."

"Wouldn't miss it for the world," Kenna said, her voice tight.

"Drink?" Francis offered them.

"Yes," Bash replied, taking one and another for Kenna.

Kenna downed it and requested for another. "Don't mind me - got a whole lot of work to do later on. Might as well feel the buzz now as opposed to later."

As they ate, Mary kept stealing glances with Francis to mention the godparents' situation. They had long spoken about official dates for Elisabeth and Philip's wedding and tour and now, they were nervous to bring up the subject of Anaïs's godparents.

"So, we asked you to come here to talk about the christening," Francis began cautiously. "We've decided that Bash and Margaret will be Anaïs's godfather and godmother respectively. The christening will fall in the last week of March."

Kenna paused mid-sip, removing her wine glass from her face. "Right," she said. "Wonderful. I am sure that Margaret will be nothing but dutiful to Anaïs. Splendid choices."

Mary gave her a look and Kenna's eyes assured her. "Well, it wasn't made lightly. Francis and I considered long and hard about it."

"Right, as if you weren't set on the matter forty-five minutes ago," Lissie told them abruptly.

Kenna frowned. "Oh."

"You were our first choice," Francis quickly said. "But then we thought that Margo was pushed to the background a little. Underneath everything, Mary and me, Father, you and Bash... Charles's courting of the Trastámara girl, Lissie's engagement to Philip as well as Claude's to Enzo... Everyone's got a story but Margo."

"Understandable," Kenna replied, nodding approvingly. "Honestly."

"We also wanted to ask," Mary began. "If you'd reconsider on the tour decision?"

Bash sighed heavily. "We've spoken to our secretaries and publicists and it's just not workable. The tour is about _you_ both and we will bring negative media around that with the Antoine Bourbon case and Sweden. It's just not plausible right now."

"That compiled with my work, I've told you about that. Our schedules are busy," Kenna added.

"And I've been asked to return to the FEGA. Not as a full-time occupation as a jockey but as its board director," Bash continued on. "We've committed ourselves to prior engagements, it's just too of a short notice."

"Then you can join us for the last month, next February-March," Francis told them, eyeing his brother in particular. "We leave the day after my birthday, on the 20th and return three days before yours, on the 20th."

Kenna sighed. "We will have to see," she replied, sharing a look with Bash. They were relentless.

"Isn't the 20th a special date?" Philip asked, cutting into the tense air. "We've just set the 20th of November for Elisabeth and I's wedding."

"Indeed it is," Mary mumbled, sipping her sparkling juice. "Indeed it is..."

"Oh, I read an article about you helping that woman at the Colour Run," Philip continued to Kenna with a warm smile. "How did you feel after the marathon?"

Kenna blushed, all eyes on her. "I felt great," she replied. "I still do. That was one of the best things I've ever done and it wasn't for that woman. It was for all the people who are hurt, grieving, suffering. And it was for Matthias."

Francis gave her a smile. "I'm sure he would have been so proud of his mother."

"She's amazing," Mary added, raising her glass of water to Kenna. "You deserve the world, Kenna. Take it."

Kenna shrugged a little. "I just might," she replied coyly.

...

"Is it bad for me to wish the tour was over already?" Mary asked once she and Francis were up in the air on Tuesday evening. "I've missed being at home, surrounded by family and friends... I barely saw Lola and Greer or my mother. Her doctors said she was improving and I wanted to see for myself."

Francis gave her a soft smile, pressing a kiss on the side of her head. "I feel the same. I'd rather royal engagements in France than in other countries. Less stress and I can sleep in my own bed."

"Mhm," his wife hummed, eyeing their sleeping daughter in Nadia's arms. "Nadia, can you go to the bed quarters please?"

The woman nodded and carefully stood from her seat, the baby still in her arms as she headed to the bedroom at the back of the jet, closing the door behind her. The rest of their team were in the first cabin of the jet at the front, behind the pilots' cockpit.

She turned, pressing her lips against Francis's softly. "I've given it more thought."

"What about?"

"Another baby," she whispered, kissing his neck. "We should try, _properly_."

"Oh," Francis said breathily. "Right."

Her lips trailed down. "Who knows? Nine months from now, we could be holding a son."

"A son?"

"I'd like a son to name after my dad," she told him.

Francis looked down at her and smiled. "That's a great idea."

Their lips met and Mary pulled back to rest her head against his, entwining her fingers in his locks. She closed her eyes, basking at the moment with a smile on her face as he cupped her cheeks and pressed a quick kiss on the tip of her nose.

"When we return home, we have visits to universities," she whispered. "For the funding."

"That will be fun," he replied. "Nervous?"

"That we'll be meeting people _our_ age, thinking about how they're not married or parents already?" She asked lightly. "Yeah, sure."

"You're just as successful," Francis told her. "Being married and a mother doesn't take anything away from you. You're smart, kind, caring and you finished university _earlier_. That says something."

She gave him a wry smile. "Would you have gone if you could?"

Francis nodded. "I did though."

"What?"

"By the time I was sixteen, I was already studying at a university level so I completed my degree earlier than usual," he told her. "I didn't want to tell everyone, they'd be surprised that the future King of France paid to get a degree sooner rather than later. With money, comes power. That's scary."

"And being royalty," she added, her eyebrows still raised in surprise. "I guess it makes sense - you didn't go to the Army like Bash and your friends did."

Francis smiled a little. "I wasn't cut out for that. I'm a lover, not a fighter."

"Is that so?" She asked teasingly. "If I remember last night-"

"Hey, the bedroom is a different ground!"

"So dominant," she said, laughing. "Aren't Pisces supposed to be _submissive_?"

"Naturally," Francis said cheekily. "But in the bedroom, it's a whole another ballgame."

Mary blushed. "Maybe it's the French in you."

"That what?"

"The sex."

"What about it?"

Mary took his hand in hers and rested her head on his shoulder. "So adventurous. From Kenna and Greer's stories, you French do it better than our Scots. And the or-"

"Are you serious?" Her husband asked, laughing.

She blushed furiously. "It's what they told me! You're just great lovers more so than others."

"Well-"

"And if Olivia's book is anything to go on by..." Mary's cheeks reddened even more. "Eight times?"

Francis snorted, kissing her cheek. "Let's not talk about my ex-girlfriend _or_ my brother's sex life with her or anyone else."

Mary laughed and nodded. "Yeah. Can I talk about Kenna's?"

"I see you, Mary Valois!" Francis cried out. "Spouses of said brother included!"

Mary straddled his hips, undoing his shirt. "Baby's sorted. Employees, fast asleep or whatever they're doing."

"Mummy and daddy time?"

"Mummy and daddy time," Mary confirmed before she laughed loudly at Francis attacking her body with kisses and tickles.

...

The weather in Kenya was wonderful although Mary had begun to feel the heat more than she expected after their sixth day there. She was relieved for the air conditioning, making sure that her daughter wore light clothing and had her head and face protected from the sweltering sun_ and_ cameras.

The French Ambassador in Kenya showed them around, taking the time to take them to tourist attractions booked in advance. In the quiet time they had as a family, they spent it at Lake Nakuru.

"Anaïs, look! Those are flamingos!" Francis said, pressing a quick kiss on the baby's cheek.

Mary turned, shielding her eyes in amusement. "She doesn't understand."

"And so?"

She laughed. "Next, you'll be showing her the lions. Another thing she doesn't understand."

"Our baby has her parents' smarts," Francis told his wife. "Have faith in the little future queen. She'll be playing the piano by aged two!"

Mary snorted loudly and grinned. "This suits you."

"What?"

"Fatherhood."

"I want to be involved in our children's upbringing," he told her. "More than my parents were for us." He turned to face her. "If I were to die right now, I'd be happy."

Mary frowned. "Don't say things like-"

"You know what I mean," Francis quickly said, chuckling softly. "I'm just saying, when it comes to you, I have no regrets. I'd die a happy man, surrounded by the two people I love most in the world. Mary, Anaïs and you are the best things to ever happen to me."

Mary blushed furiously, pressing a quick kiss on his lips. "You're the best things to happen to me. A life without you... I wouldn't want it."

"I wouldn't want that either."

She beamed and they continued to watch the flamingoes.

...

"Anaïs," Francis said once the recording had started. "You're more aware of your surroundings now, my darling." He eyed the baby, wide awake in the crib.

She had her own nursery to herself, something Mary had been hesitant to know before the knowledge that the nursery would be connected to the master bedroom and Nadia would be there twenty-four seven until otherwise. Security was also stationed out of the rooms with Michel in the room in case Nadia needed to relieve herself. Basically, the future Queen of France was _never_ left unattended.

Michel stood outside now, Nadia had gone to grab dinner and Mary was in the master bedroom, catching up with friends and family.

"You're such a perfect baby," Francis continued. "You don't cry unnecessarily and trust me, your uncles and aunts - the younger ones - they cried for no reason, all hours of the day... Once, your grandfather joked about giving them alcohol. You see, in the olden days, giving alcohol to babies was accepted or something, I don't know. Obviously not these days, but only our grandmother from Italy, your great-grandmother Queen Madeleine could calm them down."

He bent over and lifted the baby into his arms, pressing a long kiss on her head full of hair. He kissed the same spot repeatedly and headed to the window to look out of it at the beautiful ocean.

"We'll bring you back here when you're older and can understand," he told her. "Maybe you'd be a big sister by then. It's not easy being the older siblings. You have a lot expected of you, my darling, especially as a future monarch. It's better to be the middle child, hidden in the shadows because the baby of the family gets spoilt and sometimes bratty. Middle children tend to be more independent. Not to say that the eldest child won't be, but the middle child fights for survival. I'm not your Pepe or Nonna's first child, but I am their first child with each other. You have your Uncle Bash from Pepe, we have different mamas and then your Aunt Clarissa from Nonna... Either way, they expect a lot from the three of us, eldest in our own regards. I just want you to know that I'll love you just as much as I'll love any child that comes after you. You'll be my firstborn, Daddy's little princess and my love for you will never die. It's everlasting and God... I'm starting to see why your mother says I'm cheesy."

"But I love it," Mary said softly, coming to wrap her arms around his waist and press a soft kiss on his back. "She's fallen asleep."

Francis looked down and found that to be true. "Look at her Mary."

"I am," Mary replied quietly now, staring down at their daughter. "We made that."

"I just want to stay here forever, watching her sleep," Francis mumbled. "Her loyal guard dog or something."

Mary laughed softly, brushing the back of her finger over her daughter's cheek. "Francis?"

"Mhm?"

"Are we really sure about having another one so soon?" Mary asked him. "Look at Annie, don't we want more time to spend alone with her?"

Francis turned to her. "I don't know."

Mary broke out into a wry smile. "Moments like today, I want them to last. Babies grow and soon, she won't want to spend time with us. We have to make every second with her count."

"You're right. I need to stop being so broody," he muttered. "I blame my parents."

Mary chuckled softly. "We're only having three then. Or I'll force you to-"

"You wouldn't!"

"If you think we're going to end up like your parents, you need to start looking for another wife," Mary said jokingly.

"Hmm, I think I prefer the one I have now."

"Good," she replied. "She prefers you too."

Francis laughed, turning to face her. "Let's put her down. I'm sure she'll enjoy the peace more than our bickering."

"Who says we're bickering?" Mary asked, her voice slightly higher.

"I don't know," Francis began, moving from her side. "You women do like starting fights."

Mary scoffed lightly. "Take that back, Your Majesty."

"Make me," Francis replied, blowing a raspberry.

"Oh, you're going to get it," Mary said, her eyes widened as she marched into their bedroom. "Hurry up, will you?"

Francis started to laugh, gently placing Annie into the crib. He called for Nadia to return before locking him and Mary in their bedroom, quickly coming over to launch himself on her on the bed, making her squeal and giggle.

"Francis!"

"You have to make me take it-"

She flipped them over, making him gasp. "Take it back!"

He leant up and kissed her. "Never."

"Oh, you want to play it like that now?" She asked, chuckling. "As you wish."

Not once did they emerge. Not even for dinner.


End file.
